The Three-headed Dog
by Lanilen
Summary: Two years after Mindoir, Aliana Shepard joins the Systems Alliance military. Less than a week later, the man who saved her from the batarians dies in strange circumstances, leaving behind nothing but a letter. A letter explaining the most dangerous secret in the galaxy. A letter that will put her life in danger, and only the mysterious organization Cerberus is willing to help her.
1. Chapter 1: When Plans Go Bad

**Author's Notes:** This fic is merely an offshoot from one of my Self-Insert fics (of which there are two, you can draw your own conclusions about my need for attention based on that fact). If you want to get the full context before this chapter, then you'll have to read the first 16 chapters of my fic "My Effect: Divergence". But it's probably not needed, specially as this is just a mental exercise for my amusement (and, hopefully, yours).

This started as mostly a one-shot, with this first chapter, but since I've decided to continue it, I'm editing this early note to point it out. It'll be very AU-ish, and will be made of timeskipped scenes for the most part. It'll probably be the shortest self-insert ever, and by the end of this chapter you'll know why :D Hope you enjoy it!

* * *

My name is Roy Morgan. Born on Earth in 1994, I was translocated to the Mass Effect universe by means unknown, to find that what I always thought was a work of fiction had somehow become very real. I was going for a nice walk on the Milford Sound trail, and ended up appearing on Mindoir, the year 2170. The day the batarians raided the colony. There, I met one Aliana Shepard. I got her out of the way and to safety, although I failed to help anyone else from her family. I watched her mother die, I arrived too late to save her brother, and the last thing her father did before dying in front of me was plead with his eyes for me to go and save her.

Knowing what I did, I knew that I didn't need to save her. She would have managed on her own, somehow. But I, at least, helped her. Surviving Mindoir is one thing, the matter of the survival was another.

After a rather unique combination of circumstances, I ended up as Shepard's legal guardian, despite her being a future badass extraordinaire and the savior of the galaxy. At the time she was nothing of the short, she was just a teenager who had lost her entire family and was having trouble dealing with the grief. With what I knew about the future, I knew what was in store for her. The games, which seemed to be something to go by, showed how the entire galaxy used her as its plaything, chewing her up over and over until her death became the only way to stop the reapers and save all those people who never gave her any support.

I decided I wasn't going to let it happen. I tried to steer her away from the Systems Alliance, enlisting myself to their ranks as a way to train and prepare for what was about to come. All I needed was the right person with enough influence to change things and give us a fighting chance. At the end of the day, all we needed was a poor bastard to pull the trigger and fire the crucible to destroy the reapers after D-day.

However, all that was thrown into flux when I became Shepard's guardian. For a year and a half the two of us seemingly grew more and more distant, butting heads as she tried to deal with her grief, and I failed completely to know what to do. For a time that was all I worried about, being a soldier and keeping her safe. But on April 11th, 2172, she hit me with the last thing I wanted to hear. She had signed up for the Systems Alliance. I couldn't stop Commander Shepard from becoming a thing.

Thus, the day she shipped out was the day I decided to start changing the galaxy for good. If she was going to be Commander Shepard, I was going to make sure I gave her the best odds of survival for the upcoming apocalypse. I left her a letter detailing most of the important things I knew, and decided on the only course I could think of: Matriarch Benezia.

She was an asari politician with pull and wealth. She had contacts at the highest levels. And with some luck, I could stop her from becoming indoctrinated when trying to help Saren.

Thus, there I found myself. I had been on Thessia for three days, and had managed to contact Liara T'Soni. It had gone _great_. I had convinced her that I could get her a working prothean VI (not a far-fetched promise, as I knew of at least two of them), and that I'd need to talk with her mother.

The doorbell of my hotel room rang insistently. Right, someone at the door. I struggled to open my eyes, and checked the clock. Half past eight. Late enough that I should be awake, but the time difference was absolutely killing me. Two centuries in the future and they still hadn't found a solution to that. There were pills they claimed could fix it, same as back in my day, but they did bugger all.

I stumbled to the door and answered.

"Who is it?"

"Mister Morgan? I have a message from Matriarch Benezia," a feminine voice replied.

 _Huh. That was fast._

I opened the door and what I saw on the other side floored me in an instant. I recognized the face, despite the lack of green colour.

"Hello Mister Morgan, my name is Shiala Dovan. I work for Matriarch Benezia. May I come in?" she said.

"S-Sure," I replied, my mind finally snapping into gear.

Shiala, asari commando in the employ of Matriarch Benezia. Yeah, I shouldn't have been surprised, though it was a bit of a coincidence. How many people could the matriarch have in her employ? Probably a lot.

"Did I wake you?" she said, her voice light and airy.

"Time difference," I replied, rubbing my face. I probably looked terrible. "Still not used to it."

"Good."

Her voice had suddenly turned like ice, and I turned to find a weapon pointed at my face. Her whole demeanour had changed, too. Gone was the easy playfulness and relaxation, her face was now a cold mask of deadly efficiency.

"Well, I didn't expect-"

"Shut up!" she snapped. "Hands up," she added, gesturing for me to move.

She guided me to the lone chair in the room, and forced me to sit down. She didn't even give me a chance to open my mouth, she put the gun under my chin, straddling my legs as she sat down, and her eyes turned black.

 _Oh shit_.

* * *

The human was completely unprepared for the meld. Not only had she taken him by surprise, it was clearly his first time, too. Memories started flooding her even before he knew what was happening. He had visited the University of Thessia, one of Liara's lectures. She felt anger rise in her.

 ** _Right, she's the daughter of your mistress._**

 _Silence, human. How dare you-_

 ** _I needed to talk with Benezia._**

The conversation between the two played out in their minds. Protheans. Leftover technology. A prothean VI. Reapers.

 _Reapers._

 ** _Yes, reapers they... Shit, you know about them?_**

 _What do you know about them?_

 ** _We need to stop them. We can-_**

 _There is nothing to do. We can only survive the coming darkness._

 ** _... shit._**

She felt the human attempting to retreat, his thoughts bristling against the intrusion. Too late. Too easy. She traced back his knowledge, his life. His time in the military, the people he worked with.

The people he cared about.

 _Aliana Shepard. Who is she?_

 ** _Fuck you!_**

 _Who is she?!_

She felt his thoughts slam on her face, the mental image of a door all she could get. Darkness. She probed again, harder, the image of the door shaking but staying shut. Incredible, a mere untrained human attempting to resist a meld. She laughed, her merriment echoing all through the meld. She had trained for this. A few years back she might have had compunctions about forcing a meld like that, but those were far forgotten. She knew now there was nothing they could stop at to achieve their goals. The galaxy depended on it. She needed to know what this human knew about the reapers. If he knew, if others knew... If they attempted to resist...

It was their only chance, to show the reapers they were useful. They were more than simple _meat_. Benezia had shown her, had shown all of them. Salvation was limited, everything hung in the balance. They had to help Saren.

The human didn't budge. She was starting to become angry now.

 _What do you know? Tell me!_

* * *

The meld broke hours later, when the human's brain finally gave out. She recovered her senses to see his face contorted in a grimace of pain, blood coming out of his nose and his eyes rolled up to the back of his head, only the whites showing. Damn. She was angry, tired, but had to give him some grudging respect for having been able to hold off for so long. She had only managed a few glimpses. Aliana Shepard; the only thing in his mind, the thing he had protected till the end. Whoever she was, she _knew_ she would be an obstacle to their goals.

She stood up and stretched, her body stiff after the long bout of immobility. She was starving, and could feel a pounding headache just starting to form. Well, all that had to wait, she had to finish her job. She pulled a small kit, everything she needed. Hallex, Red Sand, and some of the strongest liquor on Thessia.

It would look like an accident, one far too common with human visitors. Seemed like at least half the humans who arrived to Thessia wanted nothing but to treat the place like a larger version of Omega's Afterlife. Disgusting. But useful.

Once she was done, she pulled her pistol out and put it between his eyes. Overkill, perhaps. She knew he'd not be coming back from there, but she couldn't risk it. She pressed the trigger once, and the human's brains became a grisly decoration on the wall behind him.

* * *

Shepard wasn't having a good day.

It was Monday, they were finally done with the first week of bootcamp training - the dreaded _meatgrinder_ \- and she had survived. And managed not to quit. It was a good thing, too, after spending a quarter million of Roy's credits on gene mods, which she wouldn't get refunded for unless she completed bootcamp.

Which brought her back to the problem. She should be happy about it. Jubilant, even. Instead, she was worried. Sunday was the only day they were allowed face-to-face conversations through FTL, and Roy hadn't answered her calls. She _knew_ he was doing something dangerous. She had asked him to let her come with him, but he hadn't budged.

 _Bootcamp first, there will be plenty to do later on. My ass._

They were all lined up while the drill sergeant was explaining to them the multiple uses of their training hardsuit, but she was having trouble listening. Too distracted. Damn him! Why did he have to go do stuff like that alone? It was so much like him, he kept putting everything on his shoulders. She had spent a year and a half feeling a completely unfair sense of resentment towards him, angry that he failed to save his family, angry for no reason other than the fact that he wanted to help her. She hated the fact that he kept trying to help her. All she did was get him into trouble.

Only the day she had shipped out to bootcamp she had dared to thank him for all he had done for her. And it had felt so good to hug him, to be in his arms and feel, even for a fleeting moment, that everything was going to be all right. That even after all she had done _to_ him, he still cared. Why he cared, she didn't understand. But he did.

And right now, she was worried.

The sergeant's explanations were interrupted when a pair of men entered the barracks. She recognized the large star on the shoulder of their hairsuits. Military police. They exchanged a few words, and the seargeant then called.

"Mindoir!"

Her blood froze in her veins.

"Sir!" she replied, her brain producing the word without any need for conscious thought.

"Get your ass to the office," he said, pointing at the military police with his thumb.

They didn't say a word, they just escorted her out of the barracks and to the sergeant's office. The lieutenant was waiting there.

"Shepard," he said, gesturing at the chair on the other side of the desk. "Have a seat."

"What's wrong?" she said, quite forgetting the formal _sir_ after the question.

"Roy Morgan. He was your legal guardian until you turned eighteen, was he not?"

The feeling of cold intensified. She felt like she was going to throw up. She knew what was coming even before the Lieutenant spoke it.

"Yes sir. What... What happened?"

"I'm afraid I have bad news. He was found dead in his hotel room in Serrice two days ago."

The news hit her like a punch in the gut. He was dead. Her mind reeled straight at the day she had told her he was going to do something dangerous. Something she was better off not knowing. She was mildly aware that the Lieutenant was asking some questions, and to her surprise she was answering them too. Monosyllabic answers. She was giving him nothing. No, her thoughts were on his words.

 _"Look, I'm about to go do something potentially very dangerous. If it goes horribly wrong..."_

She had snapped at him, metaphorically biting his head off. He had given him a letter, written on paper. Paper! He had made damn sure she promised not to read it unless something happened, and more importantly, not to show it to anyone.

Well, something had happened.

Why had she been so angry? Why had she yelled at him? And not just then, but constantly. Why? Now it was too late. The last time they talked... The apology, the thanks, the hug. It was very little. Too little, too late.

He was gone.

"So the asari are kicking up a fuss about this," the Lieutenant was saying. "It's bad enough he was obviously high, but he was a member of the military too, we-"

"What? High?" Shepard interrupted.

"That's what I said. Red sand, Hallex, and-"

"I'm sorry sir, that's _bullshit_!" she snapped. "He'd never- He's not that kind of person! Was. He-"

"Shepard," the Lieutenant interrupted, not quite yelling but forceful enough to get her attention. "I'm telling you what they found. You're the next of kin, and they want you there."

The request was such a sideways one that her brain failed to process it.

"... what?"

"The asari are furious, which is not something we want. You'd be accompanied by an officer of the diplomatic corps, but if they want you there to avoid an incident, you will go there."

"Sir-"

"This is not a suggestion," the Lieutenant said. "This is an order, Shepard."

She heard the implication. She could refuse, and get kicked out, or comply and do what they wanted her to do. She was suddenly scared. Roy had gone somewhere to do something dangerous, and he was dead. Now, for some reason, someone wanted her in the same place he was.

Yet, she couldn't help thinking. She would bring him home.

* * *

She had never been to Thessia. Moreover, she had not really traveled the galaxy too much. Mindoir had been her life. Arcturus had been the refuge after the storm. And all she had seen of Earth was Greyhound Camp. For about a week.

Now, she was flying to Thessia. The shuttle had dropped them on a small space transit station, and they were waiting for the next leg of their trip. The small waiting room was mostly empty, much like the rest of the station. A few asari were milling about, sitting here and there, reading or listening to music. It was two of them, she and some stuffy guy from the diplomatic corps. Tall, buzz cut, square jawed average grunt. So non-descript she'd have trouble describing him except for the contour of his face. He had barely said a few words, mostly complaining about the _mess_ Roy had dared create for him. She had bitten her tongue, and said nothing. She had wanted to read the asshole the riot act, maybe punch him for good measure, but she had held her peace. Mostly because of Roy's letter.

She was still reeling from its contents. It sounded like he had lost his mind. But she knew him. He wasn't. For some reason he had tried to take all the risks from that for himself, because he thought it'd all fall on her if he didn't.

It had cost him his life.

"Excuse me," an asari said, coming to stand behind them. "Do you know what time the shuttle for Serrice leaves?"

"Oh," the man said, looking over his shoulder. "That's the one we're taking. Just an hour from now."

"Thanks," the asari said, a winning smile on her face.

The man returned the smile and turned away, and then, in the blink of an eye, there was a gun report and his head exploded in a shower of gore.

"What the hell!" Shepard shouted, jumping to her feet.

The asari had a gun in her hand, and a cold expression on her face. She turned to Shepard, and before she could even blink, the young woman was trapped in a blue aura, dark energy swirling about her and completely unable to move.

"Aliana Shepard, I presume," the asari said. She waited a moment and then smiled, a satisfied smile of the cat who caught the canary. "Of course you can't speak, but the likeness is unmistakable. Roy spoke so highly of you. Well, he didn't _speak_ per se."

 _Goddammit!_

Her heart was beating hard in her chest, a mix of fear and anger making for a cocktail of adrenaline-pumping emotions. She wanted to break free, and punch that asari in the face. Shit, she wanted to _kill_ her.

She never got the chance. A blast of noise and light filled the air, deafening and blinding her, pain exploded in her head. She was vaguely aware that there was distant fighting, until the biotic field finally broke and she fell to the ground, desperately clutching her head. Hands grabbed and started to drag her away, and she struggled absently against them. Someone fell in front of her, her shape indistinct, and then another person yelled in her ear.

"We're humans! Come with us if you want to live!"

* * *

Miranda Lawson looked at the young woman sitting in front of her, having to suppress the feeling of disdain she instilled in her. It wasn't the effects of the flashbang she was still recovering from, it was... Miranda couldn't put a finger on it. _Weakness_ was the only thing she could come up with. This _Shepard_ just radiated helplessness. They had been sitting inside the shuttle for hours. Miranda knew they could have arrived to their destination already, but the pilot kept them moving along in a wide orbit around the star. She wanted to break through the surface before they got to the station.

She stopped short of scoffing. Someone close to her had been killed. Tough break. She should be looking for answers, channelling her anger. Nothing like that. She was just sitting there, wringing her hands together, and looking around like a caged animal.

 _And I have to become friends with her just because I'm four years older. Like a big sister._

She already had a younger sister. And it wasn't _her._

"I don't understand," Shepard said. For the third time.

"Neither do we," Miranda replied. "The situation was flagged simply because it was unusual. A private overdoing it with his _fun_ is not unheard of, but-"

Her explanation was cut short when Shepard snapped her head up to _glare_ at her. That was an honest to goodness death glare. It seemed as if the girl had some backbone after all.

"Roy would never do something like that," Shepard grated.

"Then what happened?" Miranda asked, not for the first time. "We are trying to help. Help us help you."

"And who are you?"

Miranda sighed. She didn't want to get through that just yet, but maybe she had no choice. She had hoped the girl would at least open up slightly thanks to the fact that they had just _saved her life_.

"Are you familiar with the Post-war Cerberus Manifesto?" Miranda said. Shepard shook her head. "No? Well, we _are_ Cerberus. We are the ones who stand guard between the dangers of the galaxy and the rest of humanity."

"Some sort of secret organization?" Shepard said.

"Yes. A secret organization," Miranda replied, managing to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. "We protect humanity's interests."

"So why do you care about Roy?"

"We don't know yet. As I was saying, the circumstances weren't unusual," she continued, enduring Shepard's glare, "until the asari tried to get the diplomatic corps involved. Asked about you by name. VEry unusual, given the circumstances. A private trying to get his rocks off-"

"That's not what he was doing!" Shepard snapped, half-standing in anger.

Miranda suppressed a smile, not even blinking. So easy. "So what _was_ he doing?"

"I don't know!" Shepard said. She sighed and fell on the seat again. "I don't know."

"What do _you_ know, then?"

For the longest time Shepard didn't say anything. All she did was stare at the ground. Then she finally breathed a single word.

"Reapers."

The answer confused Miranda, but that was all she got from Shepard. It was almost nothing, but the response picked the interest of the Illusive Man as soon as she reported it. Reapers. A danger to the whole galaxy. That, too, was all the Illusive Man had given her back, and she had had to play it up pretty hard with Shepard to convince her to talk. Yes, they knew about the Reapers. Yes, they wanted to prepare for them. Whatever the hell that meant. When Shepard finally shared the letter Roy had written to her, she thought the marine had simply been insane.

The Illusive Man didn't think so. That's what finally scared her.

Shepard only cared about revenge. That much, at least, Miranda could promise.

* * *

 _Dear Ali,_

 _If you're reading this, it means that my plan has gone horribly wrong. Either that, or you've decided to go ahead and look at this letter anyway. Given that I'm not going to give you this letter unless you promise not to look yet, and that I know you wouldn't break that promise, I'm going to go with the "horribly wrong" option._

 _I didn't tell you where I was going, precisely because I want you to be able to honestly say you didn't know. The stuff I know that got me killed is not going to be in this letter. In the greater scheme of things it doesn't really matter. What matters is that it didn't work as I had hoped, and it means everything's going to fall on your shoulders now._

 _To be honest, I'm not even sure where to start. I've gotten a great deal of information I can't really explain the origin of, information of things that are about to come, and it's going to sound abso-fucking-lutely crazy. But it's true. It's all true._

 _Guess I could start with the very beginning. The protheans._

 _Our entire galaxy works on technology taken from the protheans, taken from ruins and caches of information left behind after their disappearance, some 50,000 years ago. Common wisdom has it that the protheans dominated the entire galaxy and built the entire relay network. Well, that's a lie._

 _The relays are much, much older than that. They were built... I'm not entirely sure when, millions of years ago at the very least. Maybe a billion years ago. The important thing about them is that they are a trap. They were created by an ancient race of machines the protheans called the_ Reapers _._

 _The Reapers were the ones who destroyed the protheans. Every 50,000 thousand years they reappear from deep space, destroy all spacefaring civilizations, and leave. They are the ones who destroyed the protheans, 50,000 thousand years ago. Each Reaper is an AI, made into one fucking gigantic ship two kilometers in size, with weapons, shields, and armor that completely outmatches anything we currently have._

 _And they're coming back._

 _For most of the 50,000 years, the Reapers stay dormant in deep space. They operate in a very systematic fashion: They wipe out the previous civilizations, leave behind a few bits of technology for the new races of the "cycle" to find and learn the technology from, and leave behind a few booby traps of their own. The way they've set up things, they make sure any new race "learns" the technology they have left behind, thus ensuing the Reapers have the technological edge._

 _To make sure they're completely victorious, there's something else they do: Indoctrination._

 _I don't know how it works, if it's nanotechnology, synthetic brainwaves, or what the fuck it is. Indoctrination is how the Reapers turn organics to their side. It's like brainwashing on steroids. People who come in contact with Reaper technology lose their minds, and start to work for the Reapers without even realizing they're doing it. Reaper technology is all over the freaking Galaxy, making sure they have sleeper agents inside any organic race that comes to power during the cycles._

 _If this all sounds crazy, you haven't heard the best part yet. The reason the Reapers do this is because of how they... reproduce, I guess. Each Reaper is not a pure synthetic AI, they are made of a combination of synthetic and organic components. The synthetic part is fabricated. The organic part is the countless civilizations that the Reapers have destroyed before ours. They can take the organics they defeat, even the ones they kill, and turn them into monsters, a mix of organic and synthetics. Foot soldiers for the war. If they get enough, and they are compatible, they create new reapers out of the combination of billions of organics._

 _When they come, they will come through the heart of the relay network. The Citadel. The Citadel is a trap, a mass relay that connects our galaxy to the deep space where the Reapers sleep, and it can be used to shut down the entire freaking relay network down. I don't have to tell you how that'd cripple us. The Reapers always leave behind a way to be awoken. As far as I know, there are two Reapers active in the galaxy, called Nazara and Harbinger._

 _Nazara is the one in charge of getting the Reapers back here. It'll eventually come for the Citadel, with a fleet of Geth with it. Yeah, I'm not joking. The geth haven't left the Perseus Veil until now, but some of them (only some of them) think the reapers are some kind of mechanical gods, so they'll join with Nazara. And possibly a Spectre called Saren Arterius. This'll all go down in about 10 years, give or take. Keep your eyes open._

 _I should mention, the rest of the geth don't really give a toss about the galaxy. As far as they're concerned, all they want to do is be left alone, and possibly wait for the quarians to come back. I'm not even sure if it'll be possible to convince the quarians that the geth don't want to kill them anymore, but that's what it is._

 _Harbinger is in charge of the Collectors. If you look it up there ain't much on them out there. They are the remnant of the protheans, morphed into bio-mechanical slaves for the Reapers. They've got a base in the centre of the galaxy that can only be accessed through the Omega-4 relay, and the technology to start building Reaper ships if they have to. Whoever messes with Nazara is going to have a big honking target on their backs, and let me tell you, the Collectors are pretty fucking dangerous. Their ships have Reaper tech, they can find stealth ships no problem, and their guns can tear through anything but dreadnoughts without batting an eyelash. The only way to get to their base is for a ship to have a Reaper IFF to identify itself as a Reaper. Otherwise, the Omega-4 will tear whatever ship goes through it to shreds. There's millions of ancient ships on the other side of that relay._

 _You notice I have said 50,000 years a lot. As I understand it, we were already due to get a visit from the Reapers. The only reason it didn't happen was because of the protheans. A remnant of the protheans stayed behind in cryosleep in a world called Ilos, only accessible through the Mu relay. It was a research station, where the protheans were studying the Mass Relay technology. They built a prototype, a small relay that connects their base directly to the Citadel (people think the miniature relay inside the Citadel is a sculpture, hilarious; now you know the truth). The few surviving protheans spent the rest of their lives trying to find a way to stop the Reapers from returning, and they kind of managed. The systems inside the Citadel were blocked by their work (they called this the conduit), and the signal for the Reapers to return was never sent._

 _There's still a prothean VI functional at Ilos. You'll need the location of the Mu relay to find it. The rachni knew where it was, and Binary Helix have managed to find a rachni queen egg. So that's how you find the Mu relay._

 _If all else fails, the Reapers will come through normal FTL travel, with a date on that: 2186. If they make it to the Alpha relay, they'll spread through the galaxy and we'll be screwed unless we're ready._

 _I know you must be thinking I'm fucking crazy. Trust me, I'm as sane as it gets. There's some evidence you can see for yourself. First, there's a derelict reaper on Mnemosyne, orbiting the gas giant. It's actually not hard to find, it creates a massive gravitational disturbance that's easy to pinpoint. Finding and dating it will show that Nazara isn't a geth ship. There's Ilos, find it on time and the VI will prove what I'm saying. And there's a big one, too._

 _There's still a living, non-indoctrinated prothean out there. He's in cryostasis in an underground facility on Eden Prime. I don't know exactly where, somewhere close to either the current spaceport, or wherever they're planning to build a new one, or expand it. His name is Javik. He's a bit of an ass, but he's the second biggest asset the galaxy has._

 _This is all the bad news, but I have some good news. There is a way to stop the reapers which doesn't involve everyone dying. The reapers took over 200 years to wipe out the protheans, and in that time, they worked tirelessly to come up with ways to fight them. They created a superweapon, building over the work of previous civilizations, called the Crucible. It taps onto the centre of the Citadel and the AI which lives there – the one that created the original Reapers – and can be used to destroy the reapers, and all synthetic life in the galaxy. It'll also blow up the relay network. That's a last resort weapon, but it can be used._

 _The designs for the weapon are deep in the Mars prothean beacon. Javik won't be able to help you much with that, but at least he speaks prothean. I mean, duh._

…

 _Okay, I'm_ hoping _I still have enough of your trust that you won't think me insane. The next question is why I'm telling you all this, or, rather, why I'm telling you all this the way I am. I'm afraid that, if I'm dead, it's all going to fall on you. I left to try and convince some people who I thought had the pull to make the galaxy get their asses in line. The worst case scenario is this, though I left mostly thinking they'd either kick me out or have me committed. Anyway, that's life._

 _When you told me you were going to join the army, I told you I didn't want that for you. That's because, as I said, all this will fall on your shoulders. When I told you that you were going to be great, I wasn't kidding. You can make it as far as you can imagine. You have the potential to be the first human Spectre, and I'm telling you this because I know you'll work just as hard even if I tell you. It's going to have to be us, humans, who stand between the Reapers and the galaxy. The council races are too invested in the status quo to really believe something like that. I have some hope for the Turians, if you can unearth enough evidence and show them, but don't count on it. If it's us, it'll have to be the best of us who leads. And that'll be you, Ali._

 _..._

 _There's some more things for you to look out for. I hope I'm not forgetting anything._

 _First, Saren Arterius is the first one you'll have to be wary of. He came into contact with Reaper tech long ago, and as far as I know, he's indoctrinated to the hilt. If he's made contact with Nazara, he'll be leading the geth army with it._

 _Second, there is an organization called Cerberus. The leader is one Illusive Man, better known as Jack Harper. He, too, is indoctrinated to the hilt. He's a xenophobic human supremacist, and he's convinced that he can control the reapers and move humanity to the top of the totem pole in the galaxy. He's wrong, and all he'll do is hand over the galaxy to the Reapers on a silver platter. He's got resources like you wouldn't believe. Given the chance, he can put together a hell of a fleet to stand up to the major powers. Not only that, but he's got people everywhere, including the Systems Alliance military._

 _Third, the Collectors will come for you too. When they make their move, you're going to have to be prepared. Don't just go scampering off on your own with a poorly armed ship until they have been dealt with._

 _Fourth, the Alpha Relay is the back door to the galaxy for the Reapers. Even though they'll eventually come for us through normal FTL travel, this relay can spread them out and give them the control of the relay network. If it comes to that, don't hesitate to destroy it._

 _Fifth, you won't be on your own. There are two people I know you can trust. One is David Anderson, N7 and all around badass. The other is Steven Hackett, who I can tell you will make it far in the military._

 _Sixth, well, it's going to be an uphill battle to convince the galaxy that the reapers are real. It may come to pass that only when they're breathing down their metaphorical necks they'll come to you. If that happens, you'll still have the Crucible in your back pocket._

 _Finally, I don't know what else I've left out, because I can't think straight. Ever since Mindoir all I've been trying to do is find a way for you to not end up shouldering all this. For the longest time all I thought was that if you could be shown that you could still have a somewhat normal life, you'd take it. But that's not you, and now I have to figure something else out. If I'm honest, I was also stalling. Between just the patrol duty I've been running, and having you back home, it was a bit like a life I could get used to. But now it's time to get moving. Seems like my idea wasn't too brilliant, so I've left you this letter as, hopefully, a way for things to go better for you in the future._

 _So, that's all I have. Fucking crazy and confusing, I know. And I've been sitting here for an hour trying to think how to close this letter. Maybe I'm overthinking it._

 _Take care Ali._

 _Roy.-_


	2. Chapter 2: Spider in the Web

The Illusive Man was a hard person to read. It wasn't just the fact that Miranda had only met him twice in person, it was his whole demeanour. He had a practiced apathy about him. The way is synthetic eyes blinked on an exact and regular rhythm no matter what happened. The constant smoking, a habit one rarely saw with such obnoxious regularity on people those days. And the apparently random way things caught his attention. He had been tremendously interested in the single word, _reapers._ The idea that those _things_ were real was almost too ludicrous to consider. After reading the letter Roy had left for Shepard, she was pretty sure it had to be the delusions of a madman.

But if the Illusive Man did believe they were real, his reaction to the information she was revealing was very... _mild_ , to say the least. A race of ancient machines that wiped out the protheans was coming back in less than fifteen years, so advanced they had no hope of ever defeating them. And he was patiently smoking his cigarette, listening.

"Is that all?" he said.

"There is more," Miranda replied, looking at the paper in front of her. "But Shepard felt uncomfortable sharing some of the things Roy wroteto her."

"Of course, use your own discretion," the Illusive Man replied.

Miranda resisted the urge to bite her lip as she read through the letter again. She had read the entire spiel on the reapers verbatim, including the fact that, somehow, Roy knew the date when they would reappear from dark space. There was a mention of an _alpha_ relay, which she couldn't reconcile with any relay identifiers in known space. She had mentioned Saren, the fact that there was an active Reaper somewhere in the galaxy, and the information on Eden Prime.

That was it. There was more, but Shepard wasn't happy with having the Illusive Man on the other side of the line. According to Roy, he was brainwashed. _Indoctrinated_. Ridiculous. She had worked with the man since she was twelve, and ran away from her father's estate with her baby sister in her arms. His methods were sometimes questionable, but he always had humanity's interests at the forefront.

He wasn't serving any _reaper_.

"So what is next?" Miranda said.

"You concentrate on working with Shepard. Earn her trust. Find out what happened to Roy, that should give us more to go on. Use whatever resources you need."

"Very well."

"I will begin deploying assets to look into Eden Prime."

With that, the communications ended, and the holoscreen went dead. Without the screen glaring directly at her face, she could finally see the silhouette of Shepard leaning against the wall, arms crossed and looking at her.

"As promised," Miranda said. "But for the record, Shepard, I think your doubts are unfounded."

"Unfounded? Roy said so! He wouldn't lie!"

"He wouldn't," Miranda agreed, her voice calm. "He might be mistaken."

"I don't think so."

Miranda shrugged, not letting herself give the impression of having her mind made up one way or another. She had to tread carefully. To her surprise, Shepard had rebuilt herself up with shocking alacrity, no longer giving the impression of being a broken, scared young woman. She was no longer scared, she was _angry._ With proper training and guidance, she could be dangerous. An asset, perhaps, if the heat was handled correctly when forging her into a weapon.

"I will begin investigating Roy. It is not easy to deploy assets in Thessia, but it is possible. It has to be done through third parties, with appropriate care and redundancies."

"So?" Shepard said.

"So, I want you to understand that it will take time."

Shepard's head tilted forward. Miranda could just imagine her brow furrowing angrily. "What am I supposed to do in the meantime?"

She knew she wasn't asking because she was lost, or unsure. No, she was asking because she knew Miranda had plans, and wanted to hear what she had in mind for her. It didn't mean that she would simply accept.

Miranda smiled. She would accept, once she heard it.

"As you are, you'll be nothing but a liability," Miranda said, her voice even despite the harshness of their content. "You need training."

"Bootcamp?"

"You cannot return to your military life," Miranda said. "Too open, too dangerous. Too many questions. We can provide adequate training."

"And you?"

"As I said, I will start looking into the events on Thessia." She looked at the letter in her hand with obvious disdain. "And perhaps try to confirm some of the details in this-"

She didn't finish the phrase, as the paper was snatched out of her hands by an angry Shepard. Too easy. She was too emotional. It was going to take quite a lot of training.

* * *

Mnemosyne, goddess of memory. Also, a brown dwarf on the Thorne System, and the alleged location of a dead reaper. Miranda had made his way to the system with a small detachment, a single ship, and a whole lot of probes.

The idea that there was a dead-but-still-active ship (which she had started to call Schrödinger's Reaper) was ludicrous, but she didn't want to give Shepard a reason to start doubting that she had looked thoroughly for the ship. She had managed to strike a deal with her: she'd try to confirm the details she had wanted to keep secret from the Illusive Man, and then they'd go from there. If Roy was wrong, she'd let her tell the Illusive Man about the rest, and she'd accept working with him. If she was right, well, that was a different case. Miranda had agreed that she'd look into verifying whether the Illusive Man was indoctrinated or not.

It was such a ludicrous proposition that Miranda had agreed without any argument. They had started with Mnemosyne, and then they'd move on from there Binary Helix was the next target. Ilos was known in academic circles as a prothean world, spoken of like a mythical place. The possible location was deep in the Terminus systems, with no known relays connecting to that area of space.

If the Mu relay was a connection to that section of space, it was a good resource to find. Of course, that was putting the cart ahead of the horse. Actually, it was putting the fusion reactor ahead of inventing fire, that's how far fetched the story was.

But, here she was. As for Shepard, she was in training. One of the many training camps Cerberus had for ground units.

"Anything?" Miranda said, looking over the shoulder of the tech at the terminal.

"It's hard to tell boss," the tech said. "It's a brown dwarf. Big mass, fusion activity, it's just not that nice or stable."

"This is a waste of time," a deep voice grated from behind her.

She turned to see the origin of the voice. Commander Gaynen, one of the Illusive Man's pets. She had already intercepted one of his messages to the Illusive Man, giving him a carefully crafted response. There was a difference between being loyal to Cerberus, and being a pet, and Gaynen belonged to the latter category. An attack dog to be used carefully. One she didn't much care for.

He was also a bad leader. Temperamental, demanding without an ounce of leadership abilities to back his demands up. He didn't care about his subordinates, didn't even give the impression of caring either, and that was the real problem. All resources were valuable, whether she respected them or not. Gaynen didn't understand that.

She could understand his annoyance, though. They had spent two weeks running silent, with long-range probes deployed around the planet. Waiting. If Roy had the knowledge they had inherited through the letter he had written, the asari, of all aliens, would have been able to access it. Thus, she had been cautious. But so far, nothing.

 _Maybe Roy had managed to hold on better than I gave him credit for._

Resisting mind melds wasn't easy. Resisting mind melds when there was no possibility of escape was suicidal. She had an inkling of what had happened to him, based on the Thessian police report, but she hadn't shared it with Shepard. Not yet.

"It is _my_ waste of time," Miranda replied, turning and crossing her arms. "If you have a problems with your orders, I am sure I can find someone else to carry them out."

She wasn't one for such overt rank pulls, but it was a calculated move. Gaynen antagonized the crew, and she antagonized him. It was a good exchange. Specially if Roy turned to be right. A few muted chuckles, quickly silenced by an angry scowled look from Gaynen, confirmed her assessment of the situation.

"I found something," the tech said. "I think."

He brought up a three-dimensional map of the surface, and the overlay of gravitational forces. As with every large body with its own nuclear reactions, there were always minute variations along the surface, but the tech had found a substantial one. About three kilometers wide - barely a speck compared to the size of the planet - and with fluctuating mass, registering as a blip of a few percentage lower than expected gravity pull. Not only that, but it was lagging compared to the prevailing atmospheric drag.

"Good job," Miranda said, ignoring the grunt from Gaynen. That lump of meat wouldn't kow a real discovery if it came from the heavens and slapped him on the face.

"Orders?" Gaynen said, his voice acidic.

"Send a probe, let's see what's in there."

Miranda followed the flight of the probe on the projection, slowly approaching the anomaly.

"Fifty clicks, applying airbrakes. Twenty. Ten. Five..."

As soon as the probe got into range, the onboard instruments came to life. Motion detectors, atmospheric measures, radiation scanners, and even an external camera.

"What the fibblebug is that?" the tech said.

He made a swipe over the console, and brought the visual feed up. It was distorted, but they could see something in the sea of clouds.

"Switch to manual," Miranda ordered. "Take it slow."

The tech obeyed, and assumed control of the small craft. The image shuddered for a moment, but quickly stabilized, as the tech moved it closer. It was like looking at a bunch of large beams, perhaps the ship was severely damaged.

"I'm bringing it higher, I think... Oh fibblebugs!"

As the probe rose, coming closer to the ship, the clouds disappeared, and showed the ship in its entirety. Because it was a ship.

"Is that what a fibblebug is supposed to look like?" Miranda said.

"..."

"How big is that thing?" Gaynen said.

"R-runing scans," the tech said. A few seconds later the terminal lit up with the results. "Fibbl- Erm, sir, it's two kilometers long! That's twice the size of the Everest."

Outwardly, Miranda didn't even flinch. The Ice Queen wasn't fazed by the remains of an alien ship that made the Systems Alliance's dreadnoughts look like aircars. But inside, her mind was racing. That ship was not only there, it was the kind of ship she would have expected to find if it belonged to an ancient race of machines capable of wiping out the protheans.

"Commander," Miranda said. "Take Jones and Fibler. Small team. The tree of you are going to board that ship on the shuttle."

"Just three of us?" Gaynen immediately replied.

"It has been dead for millions of years, commander. There's little to worry about," she said, flashing her most condescending smile.

"I want to take Allen and Minnow," Gaynen said. "At the very least. We should be bringing the whole crew if we are going to explore that ship."

Typical. He wanted to flex muscle. If she refused, he'd have grounds to complain to the Illusive Man, demand more control over his units. Petty, it wouldn't do any good, all it would do is antagonize her. But more importantly, Allen and Minnow were not lapdogs. If the boarding went as she expected, she'd rather not have them onboard. The rest of the crew... They were all listening. She could use that.

If it didn't work as planned, she'd have to explain to the Illusive Man what had happened. A risk she could take.

"No," Miranda replied. Gaynen bristled, but didn't complain. "And take the short range comm gear. I don't want to lose contact."

She felt the eyes of the entire bridge crew on them. With a huff of annoyance, Gaynen nodded and went off to collect his crew. Miranda cast an icy glance around, and all eyes quickly turned to their work. Only a few minutes later Gaynen and the other two were off, taking the only shuttle with them. So, now she would sit and wait.

* * *

It took several hours, but to Miranda's infinite unease, Roy had been right. Seeing the transformation, hearing them losing their mind, she knew what it was. Indoctrination. Worse still had been those _things_ , those giant spikes. Gaynen had impaled himself with one of them. After a while, he had become this strange zombie-like abomination.

She had watched the whole thing happen without saying a word. The rest of the crew... not so much.

"Miss Lawson, we have to do something!" the tech, whose name she still hadn't bothered to learn, yelled.

"Yes, this has gone on for long enough," Miranda replied.

With a few commands of her console, a signal was sent. A moment later, the backup comms gear she had ordered the team to take, a collar with built-in microphones over the throat of the three operatives, blew up. Three heads rolled on the ship, and the entire bridge fell into deep silence.

It was several minutes until someone spoke. Allen, the navigator.

"Did... did you know this would happen?" he said.

"No," Miranda replied, turning her chair around. She looked at the blonde man and crossed her legs. "But it was a known possibility. Hence the reason why I didn't let Gaynen take you; or anyone else."

She looked around, taking the faces in. Surprise, sure, but also confusion. The fact that she had offhandedly sacrificed Gaynen, but had prevented him from taken anyone else, left them feeling confused.

"We do not report any of these," Miranda said. "Gaynen was the Illusive Man's man, he'll want to know. Any questions, you refer them to me. Understood?"

Nods all around. Good. There was a lot of work to do, and she had to gather all the resources she could.

All the people, too.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Well, here we go. Crazy stuff. I'm going to make smaller updates than on my other stories, and it will be mostly scenes scattered all over the place. Just a word of advice, this is the _bad_ future. Expect a severe renegade makeover for Shepard.

Hope it's worth it! Thanks for follows, and reviews too :)


	3. Chapter 3: Wolf in Catsuit Clothing

Miranda hated Thessia. It wasn't just a whim, or a casual feeling. Nowhere in the galaxy were asari snobbier than in Thessia. She was not without her share of pride, but her pride was never something she allowed to grow beyond what her skills could accomplish. The fact that her skills were far above most was secondary.

She had spent six weeks chasing the one clue she had unearthed. A recovered piece of security footage from the spaceport. It showed Roy shaking the hand of an asari, the squeeze a little too long for it to be a simple greeting. There had been an exchange of information. The Courtesy of Thessia, perhaps, but for all she knew, Roy didn't know asari customs. She had a name, too. Luan T'Diol. Information wasn't readily available, which meant she was working for someone important. Not necessarily shady, just important. Asari liked to keep secrets as a matter of course.

Something that always surprised those who didn't know asari culture well enough. All that hoopla about sharing everything was very cute, but not exactly true. And that was the bottom line, asari never told you the _full_ truth.

Tracking down the asari would take some time, so she decided to go check on her assigned protégé. She had been at one of their training camps the whole time, and so far she had only had time for cursory glances at her progress. Discipline problems, which didn't surprise her. Marks on training courses were okay, but not brilliant. Physicals were good, though. The trip was long enough for her to review the rest of the reports, which was less enlightening than she had hoped. She could smell a rat. Someone had been whitewashing them.

She had scheduled a visit in another two weeks, the midway point of their standard course, but she preferred it this way. She didn't always break schedules - it wouldn't do to be _predictable_ at all - but done in the right place, at the right time, it was very useful.

Her shuttle came down on the landing pad at the Northeast corner of the training camp. It was located on one of the smaller colonies of the Terminus, away from the clutches of the Systems Alliance. It was the perfect setup, the small colony were quite distrustful of the military, and having a group of mercenaries of some description using their colony as a training stage kept the rest of the mercs away.

At least that was the official story.

"Miss Lawson!"

She turned to look at the newcomer, a tall man with a buzz cut. Yet another grunt. She'd remember the face and the name, because that's what she did, but she spent the least amount of effort possible on him.

"I'm here to see Shepard," she said, already walking off. "Where is she?"

"Oh, she is training at the moment," the man said, falling into step. Morrison, J. That was what his fatigues said.

"Good, take me to her."

"Ah, well, maybe it would be better if..."

He trailed off when Miranda gave him a sharp look. She didn't need to say anything, she was just casting her gaze around, until she caught a glimpse of red hair in the middle of a throng of trainees.

"Thank you, I've found her already."

"Wait!" Morrison shouted.

She stalked towards the group, already hearing the cheers and shouts. Some sort of fight, apparently. The mass parted as she walked through, none of them recognizing her but all of them reacting to her presence in the same way. Someone in charge, the Cerberus logo on her uniform the only marking, no sign of rank visible, but it was enough.

Shepard was on the ground, and in an instant, Miranda's whole posture went into a practiced, relaxed stand. Shepard was sporting several bruises, and a black eye. The man in the ring with her, one of the instructors it looked like, had not stopped, and gave her a kick on the stomach.

"She's already down," Miranda said, her voice calm.

"Waste of time," the instructor replied, and gave her another kick.

If he was going to say anything else, a yell of surprise was all he managed. He started going blue, and slowly floating upwards.

"That's enough. Shepard, pick yourself up."

The redheaded girl coughed repeatedly, and struggled up to her feet, having to stop with one knee on the ground on the way up. As she did, Miranda turned to grab the floating instructor, and pulled him down to the ground. When the biotic field disappeared, he dropped to the ground, but immediately shot to his feet, his face angry.

Without missing a step, Miranda unclipped the pistol on her hip, and tossed it at Shepard.

"Watch carefully," Miranda said.

She stood tall in the middle of the circle, in high heels, with her hip slightly cocked to the side. The instructor didn't waste time, he just lunged straight at her, a straight jab followed by an uppercut. Had it been someone else, Miranda might have wondered whether he was being so overt as a ruse, but he was the kind of person she wore the heels and catsuit for. Someone who'd underestimate her on looks alone.

Dodging the punches was easy enough, one, two, he tried to rush her, and she replied by dodging to the side and bringing her leg around his outstretched arm, the back of her shoe hitting the man on the back of his head. No cheers or yells of encouragement for her, just hoots and catcalls.

That made her smile, a small grin calculated to make the instructor feel diminished. Underrated. Despised. It was easy enough to escalate as he kept missing her, until he roared in anger and just charged straight at him, trying to tackle her.

Simple. She skipped around his charge with surprising agility, her long black hair flapping on the man's face before she kicked his knee, then jumped on his falling back, wrapping her leg around his neck tightly. They fell to the ground with his face hitting it first, and she squeezed hard for several seconds until he started to go limp.

She wasn't going to kill him, just make a point. When she let go and stood up, the coughing was drowned by the cheers from the audience. With a smirk, Miranda gestured for Shepard to split and follow her, and she did just that only after giving the instructor one last lingering angry look.

"First lesson," Miranda said. "That is the messy way of doing things." She looked at Shepard, her eyes lingering on the bruises. "But I'd recommend being smarter about it."

"You beat him up easily enough," Shepard retorted.

"I was making a point. The danger of that-"

Her explanation was interrupted immediately and she pushed Shepard out of the way, dodging herself as the instructor came back for a second round. He had a knife in his hand.

Before he had a chance to turn around he was wreathed in biotic energy, floating up and up. Miranda's dark energy aura intensified, and she closed her raised hand into a fist as she concentrated. With a pull, the floating man came down to the ground like a falling piano, crashing on the ground with a _crunch_ of breaking bones.

"As I was saying," Miranda continued, not even giving Shepard a glance as she continued her walk, "the danger of that is the lesson might backfire."

"He's..."

"Yes, dead." She glanced back at Shepard. "Is that a problem?"

Shepard shook her head as they continued walking. If she had questions about where they were going, or what they were doing, she didn't voice them. Something Miranda didn't miss. Idiots, the lot of them.

They arrived at the site commander's office in a couple of minutes.

"Pay attention and say nothing," Miranda said.

She opened the door and walked in, not even waiting to be invited. She was smiling, relaxed. Non-threatening. She wasn't even carrying her gun, Shepard had it, clipped to her harness. With a gesture, Miranda directed Shepard to wait inside by the door.

"Commander," Miranda drawled, her voice musical and pleasant.

"Miss Lawson," the man replied. He was bald, with wide ears, and a weathered face. Shepard could barely see his eyes under the thick skin, and he had an ugly scar all over the right side of his face. "What the hell happened?"

"Your instructor attacked me with a knife," she replied easily, getting herself seated with a fluid, easy motion. "I recommend you look for more brains and less brawn with his replacement."

The commander grunted, and stopped short of spitting. "Damn waste, I don't have a lot of people to work with."

"I know. I will bring it up with the Illusive Man, we need to supply our training grounds with adequate personnel."

Miranda thought Shepard had twitched at that, catching the slight inflection of her voice when she mentioned _adequate personnel_ , but she didn't say anything. Good, she was observant at least.

"Good. What can I do for you? We weren't expecting you for two weeks."

"I was reading Shepard's reports," she said, gesturing over her shoulder at the redhead. "Disappointing is how I'd summarize it."

"Well, we try our hardest here, but I can't make bricks without clay."

Miranda raised a hand, gesturing for him to calm down. "I know, I know. What I want is your professional opinion. What do you see."

"Hmpf, not a lot," he snorted. "Maybe you can make her useful with your undercover spy shit. She doesn't need to shoot a rifle that way."

"I see," Miranda glanced at Shepard, shaking her head in disappointment. "Well, I'll think about it. In the meantime, perhaps you could help with her basic training. As a favour to me," she added, her smile brightening.

"I'll see what I can do," he said.

Miranda stood and offered her hand, and the commander mirrored her actions, standing and shaking it. She turned and was about to walk off, but stopped, her eyes finding a picture on the wall. It showed the commander in his Alliance uniform, a shiny medal on his chest, and shaking the hand of another man for the picture.

"Oh my, is that..." Miranda said.

"Yes, that's president Aguilar," he said, coming from behind the desk to stand besides Miranda.

"What's the occasion?"

"The Terra Nova riots," he replied, his voice sharpening in offense.

"Oh, of course," Miranda said, putting an apologetic tone to her response. "You were part of the Systems Alliance's response fleet."

"Yeah," he said, and his eyes seemed to get lost in memories. "Damn ugly, that was."

"So I heard," Miranda replied. Without warning her hand shot up to the commander's back, a knife having appeared as if by magic. She buried the blade at the base of his neck, and he hit the wall face first, falling to his knees without any resistance. "That's where you earned your discharge. Instead of going to jail, they pinned a medal on you."

She yanked his head back, and heard a gasp when Shepard saw he was still alive.

"A cut to the base of the neck," Miranda said, looking at Shepard. "Leaves him alive, but unable to fight back."

She ripped the knife out, then with a swift motion she brought it to his neck, and cut it open without ever breaking eye contact with Shepard. The ugly, gurgling noises coming out of the dying man was the only noise filling the room for about a minute, until he finally died.

"Why..."

"Don't flatter yourself, Shepard," Miranda said, catching her thought three questions ahead. She spared a last look at the dead man, and grimaced in disgust. "I've reviewed the reports from this place. Casualty numbers are the highest I've seen, and the results are mediocre at best. He was a worthless thug."

"Right..."

"Let's go."

They walked off the room without much fuss, Miranda stopping on the way out to inform the next in command that he'd be taking over until she found a replacement. The implied threat about finding replacements was clear enough to scare the hell out of him.

"Where are we going?" Shepard finally asked as they boarded the shuttle.

"Information. Come sit at the co-pilot seat," Miranda said. As soon as she did, she handed the redhead a datapad. "Recognize her?"

It was a few seconds of security camera footage, showing Roy shaking hands with an asari. Shepard gasped at that, and started re-watching the footage over and over. A few minutes later Miranda interrupted her.

"The asari, Shepard."

"N-No, I don't. When was this taken?"

"Three days before he was killed," Miranda replied dryly. "Luan T'Diol, rings any bells?"

"No."

"I figured as much, but it was worth checking." She tapped the datapad absently, bringing up the next lot of data without even looking, her other hand still on the shuttle controls as they broke free of the planet's gravity well. "You have a lot of reading to do. That is a full dossier on asari society, personal interactions, the whole lot. You need to learn it as your second nature."

"What? Why?"

"Because you're going to need it if you're going to help me solve this."

"I thought I was _mediocre,_ " Shepard muttered.

"You were wasted in that dump. I will be supervising your training from now on."

"You're going to train me?" Shepard said, her voice a little hopeful. Good, that was another thing she had hoped to get out of the lesson.

"No," she replied, and paused for effect. "Not directly," she added a little more softly, "I will be supervising."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** So, a little in-between as Shepard and Miri embark in their own adventure. You may think that six weeks only to find out that Roy shook hands with someone at the spaceport is silly long, _but_ it's Benezia who we're talking about. Thessia is just as bad as Illium, only without the honesty of being upfront about the cut-throat backstabbing.

So! Apparently this has piqued the interest of a few people, thanks a lot for the reviews! This fic's going to be paced a little different from the others I write, writing shorter snapshots as the timeline progresses. If I can't experiment with my own fics, then when? :D

 **Selias:** She's just preparing for the eventuality. That's Miri for you!

 **Toothless is best:** I did! It's going to be dark though, dark renegade red, heh.

 **Oyshik:** He's dead, Jim. He's dead.

 **bluemarlin:** Plan **s** , my friend. Plans. Miranda is nothing if not cautious.

 **Anon:** We shall see :)

 **The Silent Insomniac:** Thanks a lot! This is more of a side project, but I'll try to keep the updates timely :)

Next time? Well, next time we might have something different, depending on how much farther ahead the timeline will be. I don't have this fic as planned as the others. Experiments! Then again, the best laid plans of mice and men and all that. Until then, thanks for reading, reviewing, following, all the good stuff. Ta-ta!


	4. Chapter 4: Memory Lane

Space travel was not as glamorous as most brochures would have you believe. It was a big galaxy, full of exciting and amazing destinations, with things one wouldn't believe existed without seeing them with one's own eyes. But for someone like her, always on the metaphorical road, all space travel meant was cheap hotels, long waiting times in shitty space stations, and crappy food to go most of the time.

There was the occasional perk with nice dinners when trying to grease up one of the clients. And the uninhibited nights of wild sex with people she'd never have to meet again. Those two went very rarely together.

in this case, for example, the redheaded human girl in front of her was definitely not there for business. She had introduced herself as Aliana Shepard, _"call me Lana"_ , and she was _interested_ , so to speak.

The glee she had reacted with when they had shaken hands had been adorable. She had practically shouted her thoughts, the first time she had done th Courtesy of Thessia. Loud, and very enthusiastic.

She wasn't interested in _her_ as much as interested in the fact that she was _asari._ In some other circumstances, being reduced to the fetish _"blue babe"_ would have annoyed her, but it had been a while. She could work with that.

And she was adorable, after all. It was her first time, which really piqued her own curiosity.

"So, um, miss T'Diol..."

"Call me Luan," she said.

Lana smiled at that, and nervously took another swig from her drink. By the looks of it, she had gone through a few already, and showed no signs of slowing. She would have felt bad if the human didn't want it so bad.

"Luan," she said. "What do you do? I mean for a living. I mean it's crazy, if I lived for a thousand years, what kind of career could I have? I'm supposed to be prepared with my training in less than a month! I mean it's crazy, for you a month has to be like the blink of an eye, right? How old are you? I mean, that's rude for a human to ask, because then you go all _oh my god, you look so good for forty_ or something, which really is not a compliment at all."

The girl caught herself after that long tirade, and as a way to fill time, finished the bottle she was drinking. With a simple gesture, she called the bartender and gestured at both of them.

"I'm two hundred and twelve," Luan replied, smiling easily. "It is not a rude question for an asari. We do not age the same way as humans, it is hard to tell for non-asari."

"Meaning we age like, crazy fast? One blink of the eye and bam, we're in a nursing home playing Skillian Five for buttons," Lana giggled.

"The ephemeral flower is the most precious of all," Luan said.

Light asari poetry. _Corny_ , as the humans would say, but always seemed to catch their attention. It was all in the delivery. Lana gave a nervous giggle and downed a third of her sweet vodka mixer in one long gulp. It was such a crude drink, one favoured by the younger human crowd. Sweet alcohol with chemical flavours, such a waste.

Maybe she'd show Lana a few asari drinks she could enjoy.

"Do you... um... do you have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend? I mean, what would asari say?"

"Friend, lover, mate, there are so many words in your language we could use," Luan said. "And no, no committed relationship worth mentioning. What about you?"

"No. Not anymore..."

Her expression turned dark, and she went straight to the bottle again. Rebound sex, with an asari to boot. Now that was something she could get behind. She chuckled at the thought, sipping her own _belfade_. A dry distillation from berries growing in the austral regions of Lesuss. The significance was lost in the rest of the galaxy, which made the bitter drink all the more enjoyable.

"Well honey, his loss," Luan said. "Or was it her loss?"

"His," Lana replied. She shook her head and brought her omni-tool up, flicking through until she brought a picture up.

 _Oh Athame's tits, now I've got to listen to her sob story._

The girl was about two decades old, just how much in love could she have been, really? She flicked the image to show a picture of a family. Two older adults, four kids, Lana, and a young man who had all the looks of a Systems Alliance soldier. It was like they made them at a printing press, they all looked the same to her. Given the getup most of them were wearing, it had to be one of those _New Year_ celebrations humans seem to favour.

 _I guess when you live so little you have to celebrate you've made one more._

"That's him," Lana said.

"Uh-huh. Well, he's cute, but honey, you were slumming it. You're much too good for him."

She masked it well, but Luan saw a mix of emotions playing just under the surface, as if her expression was just a mask. Angry, sad, quite the cocktail. Oh, this was going to be fun. She finished her drink, and when Lana made to order more, she stopped her, grabbing her hand. The skin to skin contact was electrifying.

"Do you want to go somewhere else?" she said.

The girl hesitated. Well, it was now or never. Either she was coming, or she was done. She had a flight to catch in the morning and a long list of meetings for the next week and a half. Her answer came when the human took her hand, interleaving their fingers, and led the way out.

"Where are we going?" Lana said once they were outside.

The air was somewhat chill, and she felt the human shiver when a gust of wind wafted around them. Lusia was no Thessia, but Monoi did offer its perks. And one of them was an amazing view of phosphorescent seas from the taller buildings of the city. Like the room of her hotel.

"I want to show you something. Come on," she said, and led Lana away.

They walked slowly along the streets. Too slowly for Lana's taste, as it turned out. On the first darkened corner, Lana pulled her closer, and gave her a deep kiss.

It was such a surprise that she didn't react immediately when something jabbed her neck. But she felt the thought, she had just been drugged. Luan pushed Lana away, surprise and anger flaring her biotics, but she didn't even get a chance when the small human reacted by bouncing straight off the wall, and hitting her with a spinning kick right on the head.

She never knew what made her pass out, the attack or the drugs.

* * *

"Not bad," Miranda said. "The act was a little thick, but good enough."

They were standing in the safehouse, one room away from the asari. Luan T'Diol. The only clue they had to what Roy had been up to in Thessia. Shepard had taken her down, then dragged her to the aircar waiting for them. Simple, clean, she thought she had done a perfectly reasonable job. Now she was waiting with a hood voer her head, and biotic restraints keeping her in check.

"According to the information i had, she was looking for a quick lay. Innocent girl on the rebound..." Shepard shrugged.

"It hit a little too close to home. It is easier to let details slip when you do that. But it was a good job."

Miranda never gave straight compliments. There was always something to improve, something to perfect. It was more than being a perfectionist, Shepard was starting to think she was incapable of just saying _"good job"_ with a smile and leave it at that. Maybe that was how she had been brought out, who knew.

"She didn't react at all when I showed her the picture."

"She wasn't looking at Roy, she was looking at you," Miranda replied. "Now she will look."

Shepard gave Miranda a look, but all she did was head for the door. At least she had stopped telling her to stay back, be quiet, and watch. She had started to grow tired of that. She would still do it, but she didn't need to be _told_ every time.

Luan was tied up to a chair, her head covered in a hood, and she jerked up as soon as the door opened. She was breathing hard, her head darting left and right as Miranda walked in closer. The clopping sound of her heels echoed through the mostly empty room in a very calculated way.

"Who's there?" Luan said. She had tried to sound tough, but had failed miserably.

There was no answer. Miranda kept walking around her, keeping a good arm's length away. Clop, clop, clop, the sound was coming with an eerie regularity.

"What do you want? I haven't done anything!"

Again, no response. After another lap, Miranda stopped on the opposite side of Shepard, and spun the chair around. That got a surprised yelp from Luan, who by now was trembling like a leaf in the wind.

 _With good reason. If she sold out Roy I'm going to kill her._

Her hand stole towards her hip, where her folded Stiletto pistol was, but Miranda stopped her with a look. Not yet.

"Who are you!" Luan snapped.

Miranda pulled the hood out with a hard yank, a surprised yelp from the asari accompanying her action. Luan looked up, but Shepard missed what her expression was. She tried to look around, but there was nothing to see. Only an empty room, and an unsettling murderous presence behind her.

"Hello Luan," Miranda drawled. She placed one of her feet on the seat of the chair, between Luan's legs.

"D-Do I know you?"

"No, but I'm hoping you know _him_ ," Miranda said, and brought up a picture with her omni-tool. Roy's recruitment picture, a fresh buzz cut and a flat look looking ahead at the camera. "Think carefully."

"N-No..." she muttered, looking away from the picture and back at Miranda.

 _If she's looking for sympathy, she's in for a surprise._

Miranda didn't give anything away. She didn't even blink, it seemed, her face set in stone with a relaxed expression. Like she could be there all day. Like she didn't really care whether that asari in front of her knew or not, or what the consequences would be. Like this was just another Tuesday for her. So, Luan looked at the picture again. And again. Every time she'd look at Miranda, and Miranda would calmly look back at her.

"I don't know..." Luan muttered. "I don't know! I haven't seen him, I don't know him!"

Miranda sighed, closing her eyes as she shook her head. Luan's pleas had turned rather pitful, just begging for them lo let her go.

"I really wish you hadn't said that," Miranda said.

Without missing a step, she pushed the chair, and with a pitiful cry, it fell back on the ground, Luan hitting the floor hard with the back of her head.

"I haven't seen anything, please..."

"You see," Miranda said, casually walking around to stand by her face, "we know you met with him. See?" She flipped her omni-tool, and showed a still of the security camera footage. Roy and Luan, shaking hands. "If you had said you had met him once, I might-"

"Him! I just met this human once, you all look the same! I s-"

Miranda kicked her on the face, stopping her tirade with a cry of pain. She then placed her foot over her throat, the heel pressing on the side of the neck while her toes dug on the other. Not enough to choke her, but enough to get the point across.

"As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted," Miranda continued, "I might have believed that before you lied to me. Now, I won't be sure whether I can believe what you say when I interrogate you, which means it will take forever, and neither of us will enjoy it. You least of all." She looked at Shepard. "Although it will be instructive."

She pulled the asari up, righting the chair and spinning it around again. Luan was definitely nearing panic state. She looked at Miranda, getting nothing from her, then at Shepard, getting a hateful glare instead. She hesitated, and chose Miranda to look at.

"So," Miranda said, leaning close to the asari. " _Convince_ me."

* * *

They spent three hours with the interrogation. Shepard had expected it to involve more sharp implements and pain, but Miranda stuck to asking, over and over, picking small details, changing them to see if she'd notice. It was all quite boring indeed.

Still, Miranda hadn't shied away from biotics or blunt force. After three whole hours, Luan was just sitting in her chair, quietly sobbing as blood dripped out of her nose.

"That's it?" Shepard said.

"I doubt she knows anything else of note," Miranda replied, giving the asari one last glance. "Seems like all she knows is that Roy went to the University of Thessia on the Serrice campus."

"So what now?"

"Now we look at the timetables from that day, and try to find a lead. He must have met with someone there."

"I meant her," Shepard said. Luan didn't look up at that. She had stopped a while ago.

Without missing a step, Miranda reached for Shepard's pistol, and unfolded it. He offered it to her in her left hand, and an injector in the right hand.

"Up to you," she said simply, and walked off the room.

Shepard looked down at her hands, and then at the asari. She wasn't looking up, and didn't do so even as Shepard walked closer and knelt right besides her. She did wince away when Shepard put her hand under her chin, trying to raise her face to assess the damage.

"Why didn't you tell us at first?" Shepard said.

"I didn't remember," she muttered. "I swear, please... I'm sorry..."

Shepard hit her on the back of the neck with the injector and stood up. It took only a few minutes for the drugs to take effect, and the asari passed out without any more trouble. She would wake up in a few hours with a massive headache, and a big gap in her memory. To make it good, she removed all the restraints, then took all her valuables. Not that she needed them, but it'd give her something to fill the memory gaps. Mugged and robbed. Sucks to be her.

When she walked out of the building and into the aircar, Miranda didn't even ask what she had done. The door closed, and they took off towards the spaceport.

"Your next assignment," Miranda said, pointing at the datapad in front of her.

"I thought I had training to do," Shepard replied, picking it up.

"You do. The assignment starts in three weeks, I have gotten you an internship with Binary Helix."

"What about Thessia? I've been studying asari culture every day since I got here!"

Miranda allowed herself a small smile. No patience. That was the main reason she was making her wait, really, she needed to learn patience.

"I'll look into that. In the meantime, study your assignment. You have to get up to speed with biotech and computer systems."

Shepard grumbled something unintelligible, but complied. Just the way Miranda liked it.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Reliable intel is so hard to come by. Specially when you're a paranoid bastard. And Miri seems to be doing OK turning Shepard into mini-her.

Reviews! Wow, just a few chapters of average length, and I get feedback, thanks!

 **Toothless is best:** Much like Miranda, just get the best of the best that are in the black market :)

 **Legendary Junk Mail:** Thanks! Always fun to be breaking new ground. It's mostly going to be a collection of scenes, but it's fun to think about (whoever said that about their own death?)

 **bluemarlin:** Thanks! I'm hoping I'm not going too dark with Miri. I mean, the Ice Queen and all that, but hey, she mellowed out eventually.

 **Bolondka:** Haha, surprise! I'm going for the butterfly effect. BIG changes! :D

So, next time... Well, I'm not sure yet. I want to do a bit of development first, before the key scenes come through. So we'll see! Thanks for reading and reviewing, ta-ta!


	5. Chapter 5: Shepard vs Shiala, Round 1

Shepard hated that place. Hated it, with the burning hate of a thousand suns. Or, rather, with the freezing hate of a thousand ice balls thrown into orbit around a star a little too far for it to be of any use. Noveria was a hellhole.

The research facility was heated, of course, but somehow the chill never quite left her. A month in there, and she still didn't feel her toes. Mindoir was cold during winter, at least the latitudes where most settlements were, but nothing like that place. Winter in the farm house meant a cozy fire, ice on the window, and hot chocolate. Here, it just meant painful toe stubs, constant shivering, and a very hostile working environment.

Hostile because it seemed like Binary Helix had no interest in investing a single credit in safety. Gangplanks with no handrails, dangerous chemicals with no special containment, it was ridiculous. The whole place was a disaster waiting to happen, and she had no intention of being there when it did. Her mission was simple, in theory, but complicated, in practice. If what Roy had left her was correct, and she had no reason to think otherwise, then they had a rachni egg, and a queen at that. That, or they knew where to _find_ it.

The problem was that it wasn't a matter of simply plugging into the network, hacking into the systems, and downloading all the information. The central network was protected, but worse, it was not comprehensive. Researchers there were sloppy, and a lot of the information was just not in the central storage. She had to scour offices, terminals, non-networked computers, loose datapads... It was ridiculous. And of course, she was a lowly intern, so she had to keep out of view whenever she went rooting through places where she wasn't supposed to be.

"Shepard, do you have the spectrometer's results?"

"Sure, right here," she replied, handing the man a datapad.

That was her boss, Sam Waver. Tall, lanky, somewhat scatterbrained too, but nice. Of course, niceness was relative, once one took into account they were working on novel weaponized neurotoxins, which were _very_ illegal pretty much everywhere.

"Anything interesting?" he said.

"Dihydroxyaphamine seemed to scatter well," she said, and shrugged. She really wasn't all that interested.

"Tsk, tsk, Shepard," Sam said, shaking his head. "You have a chance here to learn something, you should show more interest."

"Yes sir," she said.

He chuckled at her reply in amusement. It was one of the things he claimed to like about her, the military stick up her ass. When he gave her instructions, she always followed. He had added that he'd like to see more initiative from her, but then again, this wasn't going to be her career of choice. They spent some more time going over the data and double-checking the instrument logs. As they worked, the door to the lab opened, and she heard voices talking.

And her blood froze.

She was crouching behind one of the mass spectrometers, which saved her from staring at the newcomers like a deer in the headlights. Her reaction came before she even realized where she had heard that voice before, but a sneak peek through the corner quickly conjured the memory for her. Her boss was taking with the supervisor of the facility, and an asari. She recognized the asari, the one that had tried to kidnap her all those months ago.

As soon as the asari made to glance in her direction, Shepard pulled back straight into her hiding spot. Had she been noticed? She had her hair dyed black, and was wearing contacts, but that didn't mean anything. Her heart was pumping hard in her chest, as she made a mental recap. Pistol, check. No shields, the harness was in her locker because it drew too much attention. Omni-tool on with enough omni-gel for half a dozen explosives. She was _not_ in a position to attack an asari commando. Even with the curve ball thrown her way by finding her there, she had had the presence of mind to give her a once over before going into cover. She had guns on her, and not just a small concealed pistol. She was a strong biotic, too, so shields were guaranteed. And that was definitely a light hardsuit.

For a moment she contemplated getting her hands on some of the weaponized neuritoxins and take her chances, but she managed to stay calm enough to listen. Or, rather, _start_ listening. She had missed some of the conversation.

"There is no market for it in Council space," the asari was saying. "You could have better success with less toxic compounds, as a way for crowd control."

"We could look into that," Sam said. "As for species specificity, it is easy when it comes to levo versus dextro, but more than that it gets complicated. There is a surprising amount of similarity between species. Simpler molecules that disperse better have less specificity."

"Maybe you need to work on the delivery system."

"Perhaps. We could talk about this tomorrow, let me compile a summary of my data and-"

"No, I will be leaving in a few hours. But please do forward me the data, we will be interested in seeing your progress."

 _Shit! Just a few hours._

Her hand moved to the transmitter she had hidden under her right sleeve. It was there in case her omni-tool was taken, so that even then she had a way to call home. She had a few hours before the asari left. If she pressed the button down, a Cerberus assault team would come down on the place like a pack of raptors in less than thirty minutes. She knew they weren't there for _her_ benefit. If things turned to custard, thirty minutes weren't going to save her from anything. But if she was discovered, it'd allow for Miranda to come in and clean house.

Not the best way to do things. It would be a lot more useful to get the information they needed while Binary Helix were none the wiser. But she couldn't let the chance pass. She still remembered the words that asari had spoken the day she tried to take her. She had been the one who killed Roy.

When Sam came looking for Shepard after the visitors were gone, she didn't find a trace of her.

* * *

The first explosion rocked the main building of the facility, bringing the entire workforce to a jerky stop. There was no time for them to wonder whether what they had just heard and felt was right, because more blasts followed, and soon the alarms were blaring everywhere. In the chaos, nobody gave a second glance at one of the interns joining the generalized chaos and running like a headless chicken. The gun in her hand passed unnoticed by everyone, as well as the bright yellow coloured shield harness. It wasn't the strangest piece of equipment out there in the facility, and while it was out of place in the cafeteria when they were having lunch, in the middle of an unknown disaster nobody cared.

As far as the emergency plan went, she had no say in what the Cerberus troops would do. Knowing Miranda, she'd have two teams, one loud and doing the crowd control, another doing the data extraction. Get all the data first, worry about making sense of it later, and leave nothing but a smoking crater behind.

She had signed the death warrant for everyone in that facility the moment she had pressed that emergency button, but given what she had seen in there, she wasn't feeling particularly sorry about it. There wasn't a single person in there that didn't know the kind of research they were doing, or gave a flying headcrab there was a reason all that kind of research was illegal in Council space.

Thinking about it, she probably should feel like a hypocrite, but she didn't. One way or another, getting the information she needed was going to sink the company and the people working there. She was just being more thorough about it.

She spotted the director and a couple other execs running away, probably heading for some sort of safe room. The temperature had dropped considerably, with the broken windows letting the freezing exterior rush in, but she was no longer cold. The quick thumping of her heart, the adrenalin rushing through her veins, and the anger burning at her soul. She had to find that asari, and put a bullet in her head.

It wasn't her who she spotted, but the facility's supervisor. Shepard only hesitated for a moment, and decided to follow him. He was running towards his office, which was strange. He surely would be heading for one of the safe rooms, or the exit. As soon as he stepped into his office, the glow of the door's lock turned red, but that didn't deter Shepard. She had been trained enough by Miranda, and besides, the internal security was abysmal. The physical barriers were strong, sure, but the electronics were pitiful. As she pierced together the different pieces of code, she wondered idly how that company had managed to stay in business out there in the wild ends of space. There had to be enough security leaks that corporate espionage was probably pretty much unnecessary at that point, just a stroll to the nearest black market would do.

When the door opened, she moved in at full tilt, distractedly hitting the lock on the second step to close the door behind her. The supervisor was a short and stocky man, middle-aged, and not gracefully so. He was greasy looking, with matted salt and pepper hair, and small beady eyes deep in his pudgy face.

"What-"

She didn't give him a chance to react before she had slammed her elbow on her face. She gave him a knee to the stomach, another one behind _his_ knee, and twisted his arm behind as he fell to the ground.

"Shut up," Shepard said. "I'm looking for whatever you assholes have on the rachni."

"Let me go!" he grunted.

Before he could try anything other than his weak struggle, Shepard threw her weight in a single, hard motion behind the supervisor's shoulder. There was a very satisfying _snap_ , which she felt, not only heard, and the man started squealing like a stuck pig. Once he went down to the ground, she put herself on top of him, one leg on the ground and the other flexed over his back.

"I said shut up!" Shepard yelled, and after a few seconds, he whimpered his way to silence. "The rachni."

"We don't... Rachni? We don't..."

"You _do_ ," Shepard said, her voice hard as steel. "You found a queen's egg, a ship, or something like that." She placed the gun on his head, and for the first time she could see his eyes wide open. "Start talking."

"I... I don't... Please I..."

His whimpering didn't bring any change to Shepard's face. Outside, the sound of chaos had redoubled, and she could now hear the faint sound of gunfire. Security was finally started to move. Shepard smacked her tongue in distaste, then put the gun against the man's left hand. Without any hesitation, she pressed the trigger, and a finger flew off with a splatter of blood, followed by more yells of pain.

Shepard waited calmly for him to stop, after putting her pistol again by his head.

"This is a holdout pistol, but the ammo block still has almost five hundred shots. So let's try again. And _think_ hard."

"What do you want!" he snapped. "I don't know! I..." he trailed off when Shepard put the gun on his hand again. "No, no, wait. Wait. Wait please."

"Well?"

"S-ships! We found an alien ship, we haven't tried to recover it yet! It... it could be rachni. We don't now! Doesn't match anything!"

"Where?"

"It's... that cabinet!"

Shepard took a moment to get some omni-gel restrains fabricated with her omni-tool, and while he screamed bloody murder when she secured his hands behind his back, she was sure he was going nowhere. She then moved onto the cabined, and found a pile of datapads inside. The tool of the poorly organized, keeping data in independent and wirelessly inactive datapads was surprisingly common.

As she was giving them a quick look, the door to the office opened, and she bolted straight for cover with her gun ready. An instant later, both her and the Cerberus agents rose their left fist, quickly stopping before the shootout broke loose.

"Shepard?" one of them said. Male, that's all she could be sure of, she couldn't see anything under his armor. Damn, it was _freezing_ out there.

"Yes."

"We've got orders to find you and extract you, let's go."

"Not yet, we need all the stuff here," Shepard replied, tapping the cabinet.

"Recovery teams are on their way, come on! There's an asari commando here and-"

"What?" Shepard snapped. "Where?"

"She's down at the tram, and we're not getting through! Come on!"

"Make sure Miranda gets this!" Shepard snapped, checking her gun. "I'm going after the asari."

"What? But- Wait!"

She ignored them and raced down the facility, ignoring the chaos all around her. For one thing, the Cerberus troops were easily identifying her. For another, so were the security guards and her former colleagues. Since she was just rushing past, nobody quite dared shoot at her, or even take the time to look at her. She still kept away from the firefights, because misaimed bullets cared not for who you were.

The fighting down at the tram was absolutely vicious. Doors have been blown, and the lines had been drawn, with Cerberus coming from the tram and the security forces inside her end of the facility. Shepard was coming up behind them, and got into cover before surveying the scene. Four guards, two turrets, and no asari to be seen. Damn, had the other two lied to her?

Without any more ado, she brought her omni-tool up and started working on the code. The turrets had hardened military encryption, not that easy to break, so she opted for the more direct method. She used the micro-fabricator of her wrist accessory to create a computer spike, then stood up and aimed her wrist at the nearest turret. The targeting VI took care of the rest. The shot sneaked past the kinetic barrier due to its low speed, and embedded itself right on the controller board. A second later, her VI took control, and the turret turned and started to spit hot death to the other one. The guards shouted in confusion, two of them going down before they could destroy the turret, and one more thanks to Shepard's accurate shooting. The last one looked around, dropped his gun, and raised his hands over his head, yelling his surrender as loud as he could.

A second later he floated up, surrounded with blue-glowing dark energy, and gave one final yell before being compressed into a splattering ball of gore.

"Coward," a feminine voice called, sending Shepard's heart racing. There she was.

She looked past her cover to see the asari glowing bright blue, her barrier deflecting bullets as she pulled her assault rifle up, and started shooting at the Cerberus troops. She rushed out, and stopped by one of the dead guards to grab his assault rifle. A Mattock, well oiled and maintained. It was a heavy weapon, but she knew it had excellent stopping power. She put it to her shoulder and started shooting, the first two bullets hitting the asari and the third flying high.

The alien turned to perform a throw right her way, not even hesitating or stopping to see who it was that was shooting at her. Shepard rolled away, already expecting the attack, and a second later her omni-tool dropped a grenade in her hand. She threw it, not at the asari, but at the wall nearby. Throwing things at a biotic was always a dangerous proposition, and live explosives more so. The blast made her barrier flare hard, and the subsequent shots from Shepard's rifle forced her to seek cover.

 _Dammit! She's tough!_

As she bolted out to chase, a loud snap overhead served as the only warning for the series of grinding sounds that followed. She didn't make it three steps before her world turned into pain, and _everything_ just fell on her. For an agonizing long time all she could feel was pain as more and more items fell on the pile that had buried half of her. When it finally stopped, she opened her eyes to see the asari walking towards her. She couldn't see her face, everything was just a blur. A red blood.

 _I'm bleeding. Blood got into my eyes. I can't move. My legs hurt. I can't move them. Gun. Shit, I can't reach. I can't..._

The asari stopped a few steps away, enough that Shepard could look at her without straining her neck.

"No awareness of your surroundings," she said, in the voice she had learned to hate. "The last mistake you will ever m-"

A blue flash fling over Shepard's head stopped the asari, and she was thrown ten metres to crash on the back of the tram station, landing on the ground and out of view behind some of the wreckage. Shepard tried to turn to see who had done that, but it was too painful. The asari was still alive, though, and she came up in cover, firing her assault rifle but finding nothing but a biotic barrier to hit.

Shepard did recognize the high-heeled shoe that stepped in front of her. It was hard to follow, but the fight between the two biotics felt like a dance. Miranda and the asari would use biotics at the same time, whoever threw the attack first always finding it stopped by a counter from the other. Their shots as they moved from cover to cover deadly accurate and ripping barriers with extreme efficiency. Finally, after one biotic explosion too many, the entire roof of the tram station groaned, twisted, and came down in a shower of ice, glass, and metal.

It was as if the two opponents, caught in opposite sides of the destruction, were measuring each other, trying to decide whether the other would try to continue the fight. After a final gust of wind, the asari turned around and disappeared.

Miranda turned, and Shepard saw her walking towards her through the mist of the battle and her own clouded vision. Despite coming out of such a ferocious fight, her every step was measured, predatory. Dangerous. And when she bent down to look at Shepard in the eyes, she knew that the Cerberus operative was disappointed.

As she lost consciousness, in a mixture of pain and cold, she knew that was going to be her final icy grave. That was how Miranda dealt with disappointment.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Well, now I'm wondering whether I can make this fic work without Shepard. I mean, after all, Miranda has everything she needs, and she _is_ quite a capable agent, too. Anyway, this is either the start of a long lasting feud between Shepard and Shiala (you did figure out that was Shiala, right? Well, in case you didn't, now you know), or the point where Miranda will set to avenge her foolish apprentice. One of the two.

Reviews time! Thanks for taking the time to review, first off :D I really should go back and edit the first chapter to point out this will be an ongoing story.

 **Selias:** Well, I think for Liara it'll depend on how they come by her, but it might be unpleasant.

 **bluemarlin:** Thanks! Training under Miranda is harsh, let me tell you.

 **Toothless is best:** So far it's been OCs, but there's a couple of people working for Cerby I could use. I was thinking Kai Leng later on, perhaps (still a few years till his N7 mishap), there's Paul Grayson too, who apparently had a long service record doing horrible things for the Illusive Man, Petrovski would be good, too, as he seems to have quite a chunk of people working for him. We'll see :)

So, next time, we'll solve the cliffhanger one way or another. Hopefully. We'll see how it goes! Till then, thanks for reading, ta-ta!


	6. Chapter 6: While You Were Out

It was a small miracle that Shepard had survived the incident in Noveria. That, and advanced medical science of course. Miranda had personally supervised her treatment, but hadn't bothered following her recovery. After doing her best, it had been up to Shepard. Despite the fact that Miranda was neither religious, nor superstitious (and she did make a distinction between the two), she did believe that mental fortitude had a role in recovery. Hormonal balance, after all, was of paramount importance, and it could be influenced by a person's mental state.

She didn't have much in terms of evidence for her hypothesis. It didn't matter. Her personal experience had seen mentally strong people surviving injuries other, weaker people had not. It could be confirmation bias, or it could be true. She didn't mind having a few irrational beliefs.

Her omni-tool was still blinking, announcing the priority message. She didn't have to be a genius to know what it was. It had been long enough.

"Yes?" Miranda said, after accepting the transmission.

"She is waking up, agent Lawson," the man on the other end of the line said.

"I'm on my way."

With a fluid motion, she stood up from her seat, and made for the exit. The facility on Chasca was well equipped, but small. It had originally been constructed as a base of operations for the study of the prothean pyramid to the southeast, but the place was so well hidden, and had attracted so little attention that Miranda had decided to commandeer it for her own purposes. The medical staff were there as a matter of precaution, but it was very well equipped. She was still amazed at how many bases out in deep space were established without appropriate self-sufficiency facilities, despite the fact that many of them were literally _days_ from any kind of aid.

The base also had top of the line containment facilities, the perfect place to keep a newly hatched rachni queen. The bug made her feel on edge. It... _she_ seemed to watch everything that happened, even behind the closed door of her prison. She had decided Speard would be the one to try and establish contact with the queen. It was clear that the arthropod had biotic abilities not unlike those of the asari, capable of reading neuronal pathways and "see" thoughts. It was too dangerous for her to try and establish a dialogue, she knew too many secrets of Cerberus for her to let anyone have a casual stroll through her brain.

It really paid to be prepared. They had detected those capabilities even before the queen had a chance to use them to free herself. Her unexpected hatching aboard the derelict rachni ship had been handled without incident, too.

Sometimes she wondered about Cerberus. There were between one and two hundred cells active at any given time, but the turnover was high. Sure, many of those cells worked on dangerous and cutting-edge projects, but there was no reason for them to go wrong as often as they did. The progress they made on the successful ones typically more than offset the ones which failed, but it seemed to her like a very inefficient system.

 _You're getting ahead of yourself, Miranda. Focus._

She opened the door to the medbay and walked in with a confident gait, the sound of her high heels echoing through the large space on each step. Shepard was laying on her bed, moving uncomfortably as Mickal ran the scanner over her. Looking at her face, it was clear that Shepard was in pain, but Miranda was going to hold off with the painkillers. She had to teach her a little lesson first.

"So, how is our patient?" she said.

"Stable. I cut the feed as you asked," he said, and pointed at the bag hanging by the bed, "but I'd rather keep her under for another week or so."

"Thank you," Miranda said, dismissing the man with a simple phrase. "Shepard."

"Uh... Where..." the young woman muttered.

"One of our bases. You've been under for a while now. How are you feeling?"

"Like fried shit," Shepard muttered.

"Good," Miranda replied. When Shepard looked at her, she replied with a smile. A dismissive gesture, one that said it was the least of her worries. "You're lucky to be alive and in one piece. Between the crushing damage and the frostbite, I was _this_ close to calling it a day and moving on."

"Gee, thanks," Shepard said.

"It was a practical matter, really," Miranda said, moving closer. Mickal had made himself scarce with enviable alacrity. "I wasn't sure whether I wanted to bother fixing up someone who's likely going to get herself killed the next time she gets into trouble."

Shepard grunted something unintelligible, but that was it.

"What was that?" Miranda said.

"Nothing."

"Oh. So you blew up the mission for no reason?"

"No," Shepard growled. "The asari. She's the one who tried to take me." She paused for a moment, glaring straight at Miranda. "The one who killed Roy."

"That's great," Miranda said, her voice just as even as before. "So who is she? What's her name?"

Shepard didn't answer.

"You don't know. Well, no matter. What did she look like?"

"Blue, with a headcrest," Shepard said, refusing to meet Miranda's gaze. Yeah, she knew well enough how she had crewed up.

"So you are telling me you had a golden opportunity to gather intel on the asari who started this whole mess, the one who killed Roy for what he knew, and the one who might just have all the information we need to put together what's missing from that letter he left you before he died, and you let it slip through your fingers. No, not slip, you threw it against the wall with all your strength."

"I was trying to kill her!" Shepard snapped.

"Good job," Miranda deadpanned. "You're twenty years away from being able to kill someone like her. Your _asari_ is a trained commando, with at least a century of experience behind her. And even if she didn't have that experience, you're not ready to fight a strong biotic."

Again, Shepard didn't answer. She just kept her eyes fixed on her hands, which were fidgeting on her lap.

"Look at me," Miranda ordered, grabbing Shepard by the chin and forcing her to turn. The result was a hiss and a wince of pain. "I gave you an assignment I _knew_ you could handle. And you _did_ handle it while you kept to it. I expect you to have initiative. But if you go off-script like that one more time, you're on your own."

Miranda watched the play of emotions on Shepard's face. She wanted to bite back, and she wanted it bad, but she bit her tongue and held her peace. Not that she didn't _glare_ at her, but she didn't speak. Good. An attack dog could be trained. A mad dog had to be put down. Shepard was walking atop the fence between the two of them, something she could have managed if she had been a _cat._ but it looked like she had fallen to the right side of it.

She let go of Shepard's chin and straightened up, smoothing her uniform. She didn't have to say anything else. Before she left, she turned to the medical VI, and increased Shepard's dose of painkillers.

Of course, she hadn't explained the truth of the whole thing. While Shepard had jumped the gun, the recovery mission had been a success. Not only that, but the information they had recovered from Binary Helix had allowed her to narrow the list of suspects considerably. The list of investors with substantial portions of the company wasn't long, and it included the allegedly _indoctrinated_ Spectre, Saren. It also included several asari. And cross-referencing the list with the only other clue they had had produced something interesting. Benezia T'Soni was in that list. And her daughter was in the prothean studies department of the University of Thessia. One Liara T'Soni.

Coincidence? No, not very likely. She had done her homework, too. T'Soni was in a rather precarious situation with the University, her funding was going to run out in a matter of months, and it didn't look like she was getting any more. On the surface, mother and daughter had had a falling off years ago and barely spoke. But with asari, things were as likely as not to be what they seemed.

She'd wait. She didn't even have to move from her seat to get Liara to come to her, she was sitting a few hundred metres from a prothean dig site, and had a collection of prothean data disks to show for it, too. Once she was desperate enough, she'd jump at the opportunity no matter how flimsy. It was easier than to fly all the way to Thessia again and get in contact with the daughter of a potentially very dangerous matriarch.

With a sigh, she sat at her desk and flicked the terminal to the security feed. The queen was quietly curled up in her nest, but as soon as the feed switched, she turned in such a way that it looked like she was glaring _straight_ at the camera.

 _Maybe she is._

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** So, what it looks like is that I'm going to be putting Shepard through the same paces I'm putting Roy through in Divergence, so we'll see how she handles them. Of course, what she doesn't have is the knowledge of the games to go with it. Well, This one was a shorter scene, but moving the plot ahead. Miranda, the picture of efficiency, has already gotten the rachni queen and connected the dots to get to Liara. And given Shepard a dressing down. Nothing like a setback to test someone's character.

 **Toothless is best:** Haha, I totally wanted to give that vibe, but decided not to go that far :D

 **bluemarlin:** Yeah, she better. For one thing, next time she loses it, Miranda isn't going to be there to bail her. The Ice Queen is not one to make idle threats!

Anyway, next time we'll get to witness the fate of an entire species! Maybe, hehe. Until then, ta-ta!


	7. Chapter 7: The Sound of Music

Shepard couldn't understand Miranda at all.

After the mishap with the asari and her spell of medical downtime, she had retaken the lessons and the plans as if nothing had happened. She hadn't scolded her, she hadn't given her any shit for it, nothing. Just back to work. She was supposed to pass herself as Miranda's assistant, who was in charge of a prothean recovery expedition. They didn't have much to go on, other than an empty prothean pyramid, but Miranda had gotten herself some prothean tech from the black market.

Of course, Miranda hadn't given her the big picture. Who they were after and why. She was supposed to put it together herself, which was very frustrating. Obviously, someone interested in prothean technology. The nature of the interest, however, was a different thing. Given all the technical specs, it was someone who knew their stuff. Military applications? Perhaps. She didn't want to commit to any train of thought just yet.

Specially any train of thought concerning Miranda. The way the Cerberus agent was treating her as if nothing had happened was just unnerving.

Then again, business as usual did have a different meaning around those parts.

"You want me to go in there?" Shepard said.

Miranda and Shepard were standing in front of the security cam feed, looking at the rachni queen. It... _She_ had grown quite a bit. As things were she wasn't sure as to whether she'd fit through the door or not.

"Somebody has to ask her about the Mu relay," Miranda replied. "And we cannot really wait any longer."

"Does it even speak?"

"Not exactly," Miranda replied. "My hypothesis is that she can communicate in a similar way to asari mind melds, although it diesn't require physical contact. I am still working on understanding the science behind it."

"Why don't you do it if you know so much?" Shepard said, eyeing Miranda in annoyance.

"Too many important secrets in here," Miranda replied, and tapped the side of her head. "You, on the other hand, don't really know anything worth keeping secret."

The deadpan delivery was so like her that Shepard didn't even blink at it. The way the rachni queen was looking at the camera was unnerving, almost like she could see them on the other side. Creepy.

"What's the point anyway? It's not like she can run away and tell anyone, is it?"

"I still haven't decided," Miranda replied. "Now stop stalling."

What Miranda actually meant was obvious enough. This was all part of Shepard's issues. Roy's letter. She had to be the one to deal with the rachni, the protheans, and everything else. If she could think of a better way to get the information they needed from the queen, Miranda was sure to listen to it. But really, at the end of the day, someone had to step in there with the giant bug. And it should be her.

"Don't miss a thing," Shepard said, pointing at the console.

Miranda nodded, and sat down in front of the controls. Of course, if the bug was going to "talk" to hear via a mind meld, there wouldn't be much to record. And that was assuming they even could talk, did she even use words?

Shepard powered down the turrets, and took a deep breath. The place smelled wrong. Not dirty, just... wrong. Something was there that shouldn't be. Maybe that was how a rachni nest was supposed to smell. The odd thing was that the queen was rather pathological about her cleanliness. She went through piles of nesting every day. Well, whatever. No time like the present.

When she opened the door, she saw that the queen was looking right at her. She had been staring at the door the whole time, it seemed. Shepard took two steps in, and closed the door behind her.

 _Okay. Right. Now what?_

"Can you hear that?" Shepard said.

" _Hear what?_ " Miranda replied over the comms.

"Music," Shepard mumbled. "I think..."

The melody was subtle, almost silent. She held her breath, trying to catch the faint sounds, but it seemed impossible. It was almost like the music was only in her head. She locked eyes with the queen, and the melody became slightly more distinct. Louder, clearer. She couldn't place the instruments either, they sounded lovely, but like nothing she could recognize.

She didn't know why, but the melody brought back memories. Memories of long, long ago. Memories of her younger days. Before the attack on Mindoir. Even before the birth of her own brother. Her earliest memory-

"What's going on?" she muttered.

Then, the melody became a voice. A cascade of musical colour.

 ** _I greet you, Song-of-Vengeance. I am Singer-of-Dawn. I thank you for your melody._**

 _What the hell are you doing to me?_

Shepard had tried to yell, but she found she wasn't moving. Her mouth remained shut, and her voice never made it. For an answer, memories came back. Memories she knew were not her own. A rachni queen, placing an egg inside a hatching chamber. The chamber was in a ship, heading for deep space, running away from extinction. An egg, carrying hope. Hope that it would survive, and that the sour note poisoning the others wouldn't reach it.

* * *

Miranda kept her eyes glued to the screen, thinking. Shepard had stepped into the room, mentioned she was hearing music, and then she had stopped. And she wasn't answering either. She glanced at the corner of the screen, where the timer was running. Twelve minutes, thirty-one seconds. Maybe she should just trigger the gas, and pick Shepard out of there. If it was a meld, it could be bad for the human, to interrupt it like that, but there was a good chance it wouldn't be fatal. She could walk in herself.

No, for now she would wait it out. The queen hadn't moved an inch either, not even looked at the camera. It was the dullest show she had ever seen.

 _But don't look away. It would be so typical, blink and miss the important part._

It wasn't the queen who moved first. It was Shepard. She turned to the camera, her eyes completely unfocused as her voice called out in a sing-song way.

"Greetings, Silent-Singer," Shepard said.

"I assume you are the queen," Miranda said immediately. "You better release Shepard at once."

Shepard tilted her head and smiled. For a moment, it actually looked like it was Shepard who smiled.

"Song-of-Vengeance lends us her song, so that we may weave melodies together. She is... _touched_ by your concern."

Miranda closed her eyes and took a deep breath, pressing the bridge of her nose with her hand. That was exactly what Shepard would have said, even if the biting sarcasm of the response had sounded rather forced. The real question was what she was doing.

"What do you want?"

"We wish to sing in harmony, to rebuild our hives."

"And try to take over the galaxy again," Miranda said.

"No. Our song was soured, a dark melody polluted the colours of the queens. The darksingers have returned, Song-of-Vengeance, the last song of her brood-warrior. We will sing songs of vengeance. Will you let us sing together? Or will we fade away?"

 _Great._

She had not planned on having to make that decision so quickly. She technically _didn't_ need to make that decision just yet. The rachni queen could be useful, if she could be controlled. But she wasn't sure she would be able to control her at all. Trying to do so could be a dangerous gamble.

Her claim that they were indoctrinated when they attacked the galaxy sure was a convenient one. If that was what she meant, of course, when referring to the last song from the "brood-warrior", which she assumed was the letter Roy had left. It was a catch twenty-two, she could have sent someone inside who knew nothing about all that was going on, but then they wouldn't have known what to do when they made contact. The flipside was that now she couldn't be sure whether what the queen was saying was true or not.

"How can I trust you?" Miranda finally said.

Given the response, the smirk on her face, Miranda was sure it was Shepard talking. "You can't. You don't trust anyone _anyway_."

"Shepard," Miranda said with a sigh.

"I have the location of the Mu relay," Shepard said. "What's next?"

"Get back to your assignment," Miranda said, and watched on the screen as Shepard left the room. The young woman didn't ask what Miranda was planning to do about the rachni queen.

She couldn't help but smile. That was Shepard's way to say _right back at you._

* * *

"Doctor T'Soni?"

Liara looked up to see a smiling young woman walking towards her. Red hair, a small scar across her eyebrow, kind of cute too. But the way she carried herself, there was a certain air of restrained power as she did. As if she was holding herself back. Even in a crowded place such as the space station, she seemed to stand out on her own. The crowd parted on every step she took.

"Yes?"

"I'm Aliana Shepard," she said, and offered her gloved hand.

The asari took it and shook it. Firm grasp, a little too firm. She was starting to think she wasn't just her escort. She looked like she was her bodyguard. Made her wonder about whether the job was more dangerous than it looked on paper. The tight fitting uniform didn't hide the gun she was carrying, or the shield harness.

"It's a pleasure, miss Shepard."

"Is that all?" Shepard said, pointing at the two suitcases.

"Yes, I travel light," Liara replied. She didn't want to explain why, exactly. She had lost access to all the equipment from the University when she lost her seat in the Prothean Studies Department.

Leaving through the back door after twenty years working her blue ass off. She still couldn't believe a job like that had fallen on her lap. Well paid, already advanced, they just wanted a consultant to expand on their findings. And what a find it was, they had found a prothean pyramid that wasn't completely empty. As far as she knew, all they ever contained were data discs, but this one had actual artefacts. Maybe they'd be able to shed some light on the purpose those constructions served.

"Let's go then," Shepard said, grabbing both bags and taking off at a good clip.

"Are we in a hurry?" Liara said, speeding up to catch up with the human.

"Something like that," Shepard replied. "The boss likes punctuality."

Listening to the human's voice, Liara thought there was something else behind the hurry, but she decided not to give it too much thought. Maybe the boss was not as nice as she had hoped. Well, she could work with that. Couldn't be worse than her time at the University.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** It seems like Shepard's been getting a lot of rachni business in my fics, but there you go, it's kind of important. Good thing is, now she has the location of the Mu relay, and a prothean expert too. Should be an enlightening trip! Well, maybe. Or just scary once they find Ilos. It's getting most of the first game's plot out of the way, but Miranda is nothing if not efficient.

The question is, what will happen after that? You'll see, thanks for reading and reviewing!

 **Toothless is best:** Yeah, Crossover was a one-shot. It's not very likely that I'll bother adding anything, specially with all the projects I already have. 49,9993, I've been thinking about giving it a re-write. The early chapters aren't great, and I think I could rework Shepard a bit better with the AI angle.

 **bluemarlin:** Thanks! Miranda and Shep are developing a very strange relationship, heh.

Next time, we'll see what Shepard and Miranda do with a prothean expert and a prothean world! Until then, ta-ta!


	8. Chapter 8: Dream Job

It had been days, maybe weeks. She couldn't be sure. There was no clear indication of the passage of time in that place. Meals were given at random times, as far as she could tell, and always much too far apart for anyone's liking. Lights were always, constantly on, and the only difference is that they turned brighter when the human came to interrogate her.

Always the same questions, over and over. Sometimes she got physical with her, other times she simply stood there quietly without saying a single word as she babbled. She poked holes in her story that weren't there, until she felt she was losing her mind and she wasn't even sure what was real and what wasn't anymore.

She was losing her mind. And even when she wasn't being interrogated, it was almost worse than when she was. Hours and hours alone in that cell, nothing but empty walls and a cot. She had taken to talk out loud, knowing full well that she was probably under surveillance at all hours.  
All to fill in the silence. It was strange, she had spent countless hours alone in dig sites all over the galaxy, in empty moons and remote planets, but this was different. This silence was oppressive. There was nothing beyond it. With every quiet second, she grew more and more sure she wasn't going to live to tell this tale.

 _I should have known. A perfect job coming out of nowhere. Just perfect. Just like the rest of my life._

The lights brightened up without warning, and Liara bolted upright on her cot, her head spinning with the sudden movement. Then, the sound of sharp steps followed. She recognized them. It had to be Shepard. She had heard a second set of footsteps a couple of times before, but she had never actually seen anyone else.

 _If there's really anyone else here_.

The redheaded young woman showed up soon after. She stood behind the door to her cell for a few seconds before walking in, and when she did, Liara felt the blood in her veins freeze.

She thought she was getting to the point where she could have a good guess what the mood of her jailer was, just looking at her face and demeanor. This time, and for the first time, she didn't have a clue. Shepard had a hard look on her face, one she hadn't seen.

Liara recoiled on her cot until she hit the corner, but Sheard didn't try to do anything. The human merely crossed her arms, leaned against the wall, and looked at her.

For a very, very long time.

At first, Liara wasn't sure what Shepard wanted this time. It didn't look like her usual, or less than usual, interrogation routine. It didn't look like she had any questions left in her at all.

 _She's going to kill me…_

The realization was hard, but even as it hit her, Liara found that it was not as bad as she would have thought. In truth, she had been expecting it for some time.

She fidgeted with the idea of trying to escape. Jumping at Shepard, making a break for it. But she discarded the idea just as fast. The inhibitor shock collar, the fact that she was weak…

 _The fact that this woman is a killer._

There was no doubt about that. Staring into Shepard's eyes was like looking into the eyes of a predator. It was terrifying and mesmerizing. She was just waiting for her move. A fitting end for her last stupid mistake, one of many in the long, pointless exercise that had been her life.

"All right Shepard, that's enough."

She was so focused on Shepard that she never realized another human had walked in. A woman. Dark hair, taller than Shepard, striking features with an icy cold smile on her face.

"W-Who…" Liara muttered.

"She's useless," Shepard said.

"Don't be so harsh," the other woman said. "She has given us enough."

Shepard turned to look at the woman, and by the looks of it, they seemed to have an entire conversation just by exchanging gazes. And just like that, Shepard turned around and left the cell without sayiing another word.

Which left the mysterious woman alone.

"Well, doctor T'Soni, it is good to finally meet you. My name is Miranda Lawson."

Liara didn't answer at first, so Miranda kept talking.

"Please, relax. I'm not going to hurt you," she said.

"What do you want?" Liara said.

"To talk, of course. This has been going on long enough now. Come with me please."

With that, Miranda stepped out of the cell, leaving the door open behind her. Liara kept seated, rooted on the spot, just looking at the open door unable to process what had happened. After a while, Miranda showed up again, and gave her a curious glance.

"If you prefer to stay I can just close the door," Miranda said.

That finally made Liara stand up and follow the human. It wasn't a particularly warm invitation, judging by the tone of her voice. It sounded like she didn't much care one way or another. The humans had a saying about choosing the evil one knew over one that might or might not be better, but she couldn't imagine this Miranda being any worse than Shepard.

The brunette woman was waiting outside, and she caught the glimpse of what might have been a smile on her face as she turned around again to walk off. She hadn't seen anything outside her cell, the last thing she remembered before waking up in it was boarding that transport with Shepard. The place was eerily empty, their steps echoed silently as they walked through the sealed corridors. They didn't see another soul until Miranda led her to an office, and there were two humans already inside.

Liara gasped and stopped. One of them was pretty heavily armed.

"Ah, I shouldn't be surprised," Miranda said. "Don't worry doctor, we've got all we needed from you. Come on, have a seat."

Miranda sat at the desk, and gestured towards the chairs on the opposite side of it. The office itself was almost as spartan as her cell had been, with bare walls and a couple of terminals. There weren't even any plants there. Given the way the entire building was sealed, they were on a planet or a moon with no breathable atmosphere. There probably _was_ an atmosphere, though, given the lack of proper pressure seals.

As she mused, the unarmed human was going over her with an omni-tool scanner, while the armed guard didn't even seem to blink while watching her.

"She's in decent shape, all things considered," the man said. He pulled at her restraining collar and gave her a shot. "Hm, might need some medi-gel here."

"I'm afraid that needs to stay," Miranda said. "For now," she added when Liara looked at her.

The man finished his examination and stood back, closing the omni-tool. And after a gesture from Miranda, he and the guard both left the room.

Which left her alone with that unknown woman. And after a few minutes of complete silence, she started to think she was more unsettling than even Shepard herself.

"You must have questions," Miranda said. "So let's get the obvious out of the way. I'm not going to tell you where you are. Suffice to say, this is a secure location where we could keep you for as long as we needed. Which in this case, was a little over a month."

"... why?" Liara said.

"We needed to be sure about you. As far as we can tell, you were the last person to see Roy Morgan alive, except for the asari who killed him."

"Sure about what?"

Sure that you were not indoctrinated."

Miranda paused, but the words didn't mean anything to Liara.

"Okay? What does that mean?"

"Indoctrination. It is a type of mental control, we still have little information about it. It is used by the reapers." Miranda paused again, and again Liara did not make any sense of the words. Satisfied, Miranda continued. "The reapers being the ancient race of machines that destroyed the protheans."

Liara didn't answer at first. She was confused, supremely confused, and she suspected that was Miranda's intention. All Shepard had wanted to talk about was Roy Morgan, that crazy human who had shown up after her last seminar with those stories about the prothean extinction. She had figured a while ago he had been lying, but now she wasn't so sure.

"I told you everything I know," Liara said. "Will you let me go? I won't-"

"No," Miranda interrupted. Not brusque or sharp, but very final. "Morgan went to talk to you before he died, and he must have had a good reason for it," Miranda said. "Or so I hope."

Once again she added that little quip at the end that completely threw her off balance.

"You hope? You brought me here-"

"Morgan and Shepard were family," Miranda interrupted. Damn her, she didn't even let her finish her sentences. "My interest is not so personal. Besides, I expect you will be interested in what I'm about to propose."

"Do I have a choice?"

"No," Miranda replied, but this time she was smiling. "We could use a prothean expert for our next expedition, and as I understand you are looking for a new job."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Poor Liara, she always gets into so much trouble in my fics. But I can't help it, she suffers so _beautifully._ She's Mass Effect's Woobie (until she becomes the hardass information broker weall love to feel for because the poor dear went through so much to get to that point). Anyway! It seems like Shepard's not too convinced about her, but Miranda doesn't throw away something useful so easily.

In case you're not up to speed, Roy went to visit Liara before getting killed as a way to get an appointment with Matriarch Benezia - only it turned out Benezia was already indoctrinated. And so they find themselves in the current predicament. Next stop? I bet you can guess!

 **Toothless:** Updates! :)

 **Noob-LubeTM** : If I were to make a Mass Effect/Overwatch crossover, I'd start with Tracer and Shepard facing the catalyst, finding out what the reapers are and how they can't really win the war, then _rewinding_ all the way to the era where Winston is trying to launch into space. Someone in N7 armor ( ***cough*** Tracer ***cough*** ) sabotages it, destrys the moon base, and a new omnic crisis somehow starts to develop as omnics everywhere target all space capabilities, satellites, and any trace of spacefaring civilization. Remember, either you die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.

 **helenGet:** Took a while!

 **bluemarlin, JimmyHall24** : We'll have to wait for the rachni :)


End file.
